Muggled
by Sarcasma
Summary: Harry is obsessed with catching as many remaining Death Eaters as he can, creating a barrier between him and Ginny. When one plot succeeds, they will be divided in a new way: they will no longer know the world of magic... or each other. Will Harry remember in time to reverse the spell? And how can he make Ginny fall in love with him if she doesn't even know who he is? H/G Hr/R
1. Cake and Candles

**A/N:** I've been stewing on this new H/G (with some R/Hr thrown in) for awhile. Can't guarantee any sort of speed posting, though with holidays coming up there's a good chance I'll knock some of this out quickly then. Hope you enjoy! I do respond to reviews when you are logged in and have your settings to allow such!

 ** _Cake and Candles_**

 _Four years after the war_

Harry pushed aside one stack of files from in front of him and waved his wand for another to levitate over, dropping with a dull shuffling of papers and manila folders. He sighed, flipping through each case, searching for something, though he didn't know what. Instead, he found one mundane situation after another. None of the files piqued his interest. Of course the head of the Auror department had told him the last week he had to stop doing this. He needed to focus his energies and just slog through, rather than hand selecting his cases. In his defense, he was getting better about it, but late in the day Harry had little patience for what didn't interest him. Especially that night.

"Harry?"

He looked up from the pile of work. Ginny stood, looking at him with a raised brow and a knowing grin. She leaned against the cubicle opening, wearing a sundress and with a neatly wrapped box in her hand. Her hair was tied up in several entwining knots, rather than her usual ponytail.

"Hey, Gin," Harry said. He set aside another file, reading the heading of the next. Centaur breeder in South Scotland. Terrible situation for relations between wizards and the centaur communities throughout the United Kingdom. "You know, I don't think I can go tonight. There's just… so much work here."

Ginny nodded as though agreeing, but Harry knew better. He saw the sarcasm behind it as she moved beside him, picking up one of the files herself.

"Candle rituals at Stonehenge, huh?" she asked. "You better get on that straight away. I'm surprised you didn't just leave me a note."

"That's just something Kingsley showed me for a laugh," Harry said. "Muggle reports like that sometimes get thrown to us by conspiracy nuts in administration."

"Well good, then you can definitely come celebrate Ron's new job with George," Ginny said, her voice with an obnoxious, teasing, chipper edge.

"Ginny, I can't—"

"Harry," she cut him off, turning to lean against his desk. She set aside the gift for Ron and curled her fingers under the edge of the tabletop. "What is this really about?"

Harry sighed, scratching the back of his head.

"We were always in this together," Harry said.

Ginny watched him carefully. She didn't move, her expression safe and interested. She waited.

"Ron and I started together. Even before the Ministry, you know? Ron was my first ally I remembered. I mean, Hermione too, but Ron… Ron was the first one that felt like someone that would be next to me through whatever we did."

"I remember a fair few times the two of you had your troubles."

"But not since school," Harry said. "I know Neville was in school with us and left for McGonagall's official offer last year, but Ron…"

Ginny put her hand over Harry's, squeezing it tightly. "I know," she said softly.

"I'm just going to miss him."

"Well, it's a good thing you're marrying me then," Ginny said. She moved, falling into his lap, arms hanging on his shoulders. Harry wrapped his hands around her waist. "I did always suspect you just wanted to be a Weasley."

"You're not entirely wrong about that," Harry said, grinning as Ginny leaned in and kissed him.

"Come on, then," Ginny said. "Ron's done here whether or not you come. And you know you'll regret not being there."

"Yeah, you're right," Harry said with a sigh. He pushed back from his desk and grabbed his traveling cloak.

"This will be good," Ginny added, taking his hand as they walked down the hall towards the lift. "George is excited to have a partner in the business again, too. And Ron will have a more flexible schedule… and it's actually going to be his own thing."

Harry nodded, holding tight to Ginny's hand, running his thumb along her skin. There were some days he woke up and couldn't believe this was really his life. For so long he had faced some definitive finish line that anything on the other side still seemed an impossibility.

As soon as the war was over, Molly had insisted Harry come to live with them while he figured out what was next. Kingsley had come to talk to Harry and Ron. Any demands they had before joining the Ministry in its efforts were already in the works. He had tried to convince Hermione to work, rather than return to Hogwarts, but she wasn't to be deterred. They mentioned Neville to Kingsley as well, but apparently that was one person they had already considered along with other members of the D.A. Neville was the only one to accept.

Within six months, Harry had helped Kreacher fix up the house on Grimmauld. With Kreacher on his side instead of working against Harry, they had even managed to remove some of the features such as the portrait in the front hall and the house elf heads. That took Kreacher some time to understand why they would want it to be gone, but with Hermione's thoughtful help, they were able to build an underground area in the back garden. This seemed to touch Kreacher, who took care of the rest of the house so quickly that Harry was amazed it wasn't a new place altogether. Ron and Harry moved in, much to Molly's dismay.

Ginny and Harry weren't out of one another's company until she went back with Hermione for their seventh year. They wrote two to three times a week while she was gone as well. Harry worked enough overtime to have nearly a full week off when she came home for Christmas. Ron, ever the loyal friend, worked the same hours. He was pleasantly surprised at the extra time off when it came. After graduating, Ginny spent almost every weekend she wasn't playing for the Harpies with Harry. Hermione moved into the Grimmauld house until six months ago, when Hermione and Ron decided to get their own flat.

Kreacher had died before then. Harry buried him with the memorial of other house elves, laying Kreacher to rest holding the shrunken version of his mistresses portrait, and finally sold the last bit of the Black family estate. He put half of the sale into a vault of money for his godson Teddy. Harry had tried to give it directly to Andromeda, but she refused. Harry put the rest of the money away in an account for whenever he and Ginny bought a house of their own.

Yes, life had a way of ebbing and flowing into its own form of normalcy. Even with less pleasant changes, like Ron quitting so he could become a partner in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Harry felt like he had somehow won the lottery on the life he now lived.

Harry gave a polite nod to one of the receptionists, holding the door open for Ginny. They went to the curb, watching for cars before crossing the street and heading into the alley. At the end of the way they could apparate. Harry lengthened his stride when Ginny tugged on his hand.

"Did you hear that?" Ginny asked, looking behind her.

"Hear what?" Harry asked, following her gaze with his own.

"Shhh," she hushed him, narrowing her eyes and scanning the ground and sky.

Harry looked the same way, unsure of what she was tracking. She had dropped his hand, pulling out her wand.

"Ginny?" Harry said.

Harry was just reaching for his own when a high pitched whirring seemed to grow from the darkness. His eyes widened as Ginny turned towards him, flicking her wand. Harry was shoved to one side of the alley as her own spell pushed her the opposite direction, both slamming into brick as a bright, spinning ball of light shot between the two of them, twenty or so yards beyond where they had stood, shaking the ground as it exploded.

Noise erupted, people apparated between him and Ginny. Harry blocked a curse, sending back a jinx to have the body disapparate and appear again, blocking his path.

"Ginny!" Harry shouted. She was moving back, fighting off two people on her own. Harry twisted, popping up in between the two groups. The others were still pushing him and Ginny apart, forcing them on the offense through their movements.

Harry threw up a long barrier, running along it to get closer to Ginny. The man he had been fighting popped up in front of him, grinning on the other side of the barrier. His face was hidden by his hood, but his mouth was clear, the corners upturned. Harry crossed his wand to the other side of his body, moving at a sharp angle upward. He thought the spell and just as his tip was to strike, there was a series of pops and the others disappeared, no barrier, no others between him and Ginny.

Harry's spell struck Ginny along her jaw, throwing her off balance as his eyes widened.

"No!" he shouted, running forward. The people surrounded him again, someone laughing to his right.

Ginny fell to her knees, shaking as she held her jaw. Harry turned, standing over her, furious with himself. Furious for not seeing what they were aiming to accomplish. Even now, he couldn't read exactly what they were after. And he didn't care, so long as Ginny could get away.

"Ginny, run," Harry whispered, keeping his wand at chest level. There was enough space for one of the three to get to the other side, but they seemed uninterested in it at this point.

Ginny took an unsteady breath and stood.

Harry felt her free hand reach back, touching his leg.

"Go," he repeated quietly.

"No," she hissed back.

Harry was thinking of how he could get Ginny to leave when others appeared, surrounding their attackers. There was a woosh of air and a cacophony of pops, the man pinned to the ground by Hawkins from the department, and others cornered another of the attackers. The third got away, disapparating out of the grip of another auror, but the others were disarmed.

"You alright there, Harry?" Caleb Truman from the general law enforcement team asked, coming closer.

Harry turned around, lighting the tip of his wand and looking at Ginny. There was clearly bruising along her right jaw, speckled all the way up to the corner of her lip. They had waited until Harry issued a particularly nasty hex. He swallowed, trying to contain a shaking fury as he looked at her.

"It's alright," Ginny said, though she twitched away from his fingers, even with the slightest touch. "Harry, really, please it's fine."

Harry turned and marched over to the man. Two different spells held him back as he spat, screaming at the man. He continued to grin.

"Calm down," Truman said. "Harry, you need to—"

"Who is he?" Harry said, turning his attention. Someone else was talking to Ginny now.

"Thicknesse. Leonard," Hawkins said. "We've had a warrant out for him."

"It's not over," Thicknesse said. "The Dark Lord had many plans to continue living on. You may have defeated him, but he has passed on his legacy."

Harry tried to pull his wand again. Hawkins stopped him.

"Look, Potter, we need a statement," Hawkins said. "But the muggles are going to start to notice. We'll take them in—"

"They attacked Ginny," Harry seethed.

"We know," Hawkins replied. "One of the guards at the front desk heard the commotion and notified the night crew. We have it now. You're off."

"No, I'll see—"

"Go attend to your girlfriend, Potter," Hawkins said. A couple law enforcement wizards were taking both of the remaining attackers away. "We have this."

Harry puffed himself up, ready to argue to book Thicknesse and his partner himself. Interrogate him and find out what else they may have been planning. Harry opened his mouth when a gentle hand took his. Harry turned, seeing Ginny.

"Harry, come on," she said, her expression sympathetic. "Everyone's expecting us."

Harry took a steeling breath. Thicknesse grinned at him before being apparated away by two officers. Harry ran his fingers through his hair.

"I have to make a report," Harry said. "Did you—"

"Not yet," Ginny said. "They wanted a written one."

"Let's take care of that," Harry suggested.

He tightened his hold on Ginny's hand and they were lead into a small office on the main floor where they were both able to write their accounts of what had just happened. Harry stopped when he got to the part where the three had maneuvered so Harry himself would hurt Ginny, taking off his glasses and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. He tried to unsee the way it had thrown her. As he put the glasses back on Harry watched Ginny. Her head was slightly tilted, her red hair falling across the bruises on the right side of her face. She continued to write and he just watched. For several minutes.

"You done?" Ginny asked.

Harry broke out of his stupor. "Almost," he replied

Harry turned back to the report. He summarized what he had left out quickly.

 _I stood beside Ginny as the suspects surrounded us. Ministry officials arrived and apprehended two of the three suspects. The third left before being apprehended_.

Harry signed the paper and they handed them to the woman who was waiting to take them down to the night crew. Harry and Ginny stayed in the room for another quarter hour, trying to get rid of the bruises, though Ginny kept saying it wasn't going to work because of the type of spell.

"I can't take you to your family's like this," Harry said, imagining what the Weasleys would think. Ginny never should have been there with him and, moreover, he should have protected her.

"I'll come up with something," she said, giving up and taking his hand, dragging Harry along.

They arrived at the Burrow, going through the front door. Ginny acted as though nothing had happened and Harry couldn't figure out how to do the same. He hung back as she made the rounds.

"Sorry we're late," Ginny said, all smiles.

Mrs. Weasley gasped. "Ginny! Your face!"

"Oh, it's nothing," Ginny said, giving Hermione a kiss on the cheek. Hermione had a horrified look as well, bending to the side to try and get a better look at it. "A couple of us were messing about with a quod after practice and it exploded. Calm down, Mum, it's fine."

Mrs. Weasley had practically exploded on her own at the explanation. Harry stood behind the couch, hands in his robe pockets.

"Didn't they have a medic look at it?" Mrs. Weasley asked, turning Ginny's face in her hand. Ginny was grimacing, but didn't jerk away, still trying to play it down.

"There's nothing a medic could do," Ginny said. "It just needs a good cream and I was out. I figured you would have some."

"Upstairs in the bathroom storage," Mrs. Weasley said. "If I see anything left after you apply the cream, I am taking you to St. Mungo's."

"You're so overdramatic, Mum," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "I'll be right back."

She skipped up the steps as Harry watched from the living room.

"Hey, Harry," Ron said, shoving a firewhiskey into his hands. He seemed to have already had one or two of his own. "You alright there?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," Harry said, still shaken. "This is a pretty good showing."

"Hawkins said he was going to come for a bit, but sent a note that he was being held up," Ron said. "Something exciting going on at the Ministry tonight?"

Harry swallowed. Ginny would be furious if he blew her cover now.

"Search me," he said, trying to force a smile. "You know, I'm going to make sure Ginny's alright. I'll be right back."

"Don't go snogging for too long," Ron said loudly, George joining in laughing over it. They started shouting a filthy limerick in unison. Harry genuinely smiled at the base of the stairs, wagging his head at the two of them. As he took the steps, Harry could hear Mrs. Weasley below, issuing threats in exchange for their language.

Harry knocked on the bathroom door.

"Just a mo," Ginny said.

Harry turned the handle. It was unlocked. He pushed open the door just a crack.

"It's me," Harry said.

"Oh, come in," Ginny replied.

He pushed the door open, entered, and closed it behind him. Ginny was reading the label on the cream, then twisted the top open. Harry grabbed the container from her and Ginny turned to face him. She leaned hopped up, sitting on the counter. Harry pushed back Ginny's hair gently and she tipped her head so he could see the bruises more easily. She sucked in a breath as he started to spread the cream across her skin.

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"It's not your fault," Ginny said.

Harry shook his head.

"I wish that was true. They were just trying to get to me," he explained. "Even if they had done this directly, it would have been my fa—"

"Stop," Ginny said, firm and quiet. She held his wrist still. "Look at me, Harry. This isn't your fault. And I don't want to hear talk like that anymore. We've been through this and you aren't allowed to ditch me because of anyone else."

Harry swallowed and nodded. The first time it came up was when he received written threats against Ginny. Terrible letters detailing what they would do to her to get back at Harry. Ex-Death eaters, trying to keep alive the horrors and terror of the dark lord. It wasn't like Harry hadn't gotten threats like this against his own well being, but that seemed more manageable than if someone followed through on those against her.

Ginny reached up and pulled Harry closer. She took his lips and Harry gently held her close, aware of the pain her jaw must still be in. When their kiss ended, their faces remained close, Ginny's fingers moving up and down his neck.

"You and department will get more of them," Ginny said. "The more stunts they pull, the more of them will be captured until they realize they aren't going to win."

Harry swallowed. "That man said something about Voldemort's legacy continuing," Harry said. "The rumors… you don't think…"

"They're just rumors, Harry," Ginny said with certainty. "There was bound to be something his followers clung to, but you know it's just…"

"That's the thing, I _don't_ know," Harry said.

Ginny framed his face between her hands. Harry lifted one of his own, placing it over Ginny's left hand. He could feel the ring he had bought Ginny six months before. He carried it around for weeks before he found just the right moment, only to fumble through what he had thought to say day in and day out for ages. He should have thought about all of this before ever dragging Ginny into a life with him. Every time he thought it was over, something like this would pop up and Harry wondered what he had done.

"Everything will be okay," Ginny whispered. "Just as long as we're together."

Harry swallowed and nodded, raising his eyes to hers. Ginny was grinning at him, the layer of cream was turning the bruises yellow already. He wondered if she would feel it, even after they disappeared. No amount of logic made him feel any less guilty for hurting her.

"Together?" Ginny asked.

"Together," Harry promised with a nod.

* * *

The girl sat in the grass, shivering in the night air, even though it was mid-June. Her bottom lip trembled, but she didn't say anything to her auntie. She didn't want to be yelled at again. Instead, the girl tucked her knees into her chest as a breeze came through. The candles scattered around dimmed, then brightened, then went back to the way they were. The girl watched this with every shift in the air.

The girl's auntie was chanting over and over, the same words.

" _Abiit sit virtus eorum, qui obliti sunt, forte ad ad nostrum, tandem vincere… abiit sit virtus…_ "

The girl mouthed along. " _...qui obliti sunt, forte ad ad nostrum…"_

There was a pop. The girl looked towards the arrival of the new person. Auntie fell to her knees, her voice softening as she continued.

"Euphemia," the woman growled.

"... _tandem vincere… abiit…_ "

"Euphemia, they got the others!" the woman said.

The girl moved, hiding behind one of the giant monoliths, hands pressed against the stone, the warmth from the day's sun was already evaporating from its pores.

Auntie stopped, taking her time as she stood, pushing back her hood and standing tall, looking at the other woman. The new woman yanked down her robe hood as well, licking her lips. "They got the others," she repeated.

"Of course they did, you idiot," Auntie said. "I told Leo to wait, but you all got drunk on mead and your moronic plans. Thought you were so smart."

"We just wanted to do _something_ ," the woman said.

"Then help me," Auntie said, moving closer. She gripped the woman's arm.

"But it could take years," she moaned.

"Then you help me for years," Auntie said. "Otherwise, stay away. All I need is the girl for this. You!"

The girl cringed, walking slowly out from her hiding place. She looked at her feet, moving forward as Auntie curled a finger requesting her come closer. She stood beneath Auntie's stare. She didn't have to see it to feel it.

"Hand," Auntie said.

The girl swallowed. She held out her right hand. Auntie flicked her wand to one of the candles on the outer circle. She fought between wanting to make her auntie happy and the desire to pull away. Her bottom lip trembled as Auntie spread her fingers out, tipping the candle so the hot wax fell onto her skin. The girl breathed deeper, trying to stay still. Auntie didn't like it if she moved.

" _Abiit sit virtus eorum, qui obliti sunt, forte ad ad nostrum, tandem vincere… abitt sit…"_

Maybe this would be the last time Auntie needed her to do this. Maybe they wouldn't have to come here anymore.


	2. Obsessed

**_Obsessed_**

 _Fourteen Months Later_

Harry looked at the clock. It was past nine.

"Damn it!" he said, stretching to where a stack of files sat.

A cup of cold coffee tipped, spilling all over his desk. Harry pulled out his wand, waving to clean it up, grabbing the top paper with the picture of Floustus Nott in the upper right corner. He tried to tap and siphon the stain out of the paper, but that was one he never got down quite right. It was readable at least. Harry shuffled through the rest, stacking it into a haphazard pile before turning to leave. The upside of staying late was there was no one to stop you the moment you decided to leave. He hurried to the main floor, finding the fireplace still lit for transport, and threw in a handful of floo from his pocket.

He landed in the hearth of his and Ginny's house. She was still moving in her things, boxes piled around, some half emptied and others not opened.

"Ginny?" Harry called out. He reached out, grabbing an apple from the bowl in the middle of the kitchen table. He dropped some papers as he meandered out. The lights were all out. He flicked his wand to turn those in the livingroom on. "Ginny, you here?"

Harry walked to the other side, turning the doorknob to the office and letting it swing from its hinges. Ginny sat at the desk, quill moving across the page. Her mouth was set tight and her cheeks looked like she was biting the insides.

"Ginny, I'm home," Harry said, moving cautiously into the room. "I'm sorry, I just lost track of time."

Ginny didn't look at him but rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly as she continued to write. Harry cleared his throat.

"Gin, I know I was supposed to meet you earlier," Harry said.

"Six," Ginny said shortly.

"Yeah, I know," Harry said. "I just… five came around and I had a couple more things and I kept looking at the clock… and the last I remember it was quarter 'till and… and I'm sorry."

Ginny still stayed bent over whatever she was writing. Harry moved closer. He placed a hand on her left shoulder. She shrugged it off.

"Ginny," Harry said, unable to hide the exasperation.

"You said six," Ginny said. She pushed back from the chair, skirting Harry without even looking at him. He followed her back through the living room and to the master bedroom at the end of the hall. "You promised you wouldn't be late again," she added, pulling out her wand and summoning a large box from the corner of the room. It dropped unceremoniously, several things inside jingling as they shook loose. Ginny ripped off the tape and began to unpack by hand.

"I said I'm sorry," Harry said.

"I haven't seen you all week," Ginny said. "We're finally living together and I had to _owl_ you to make sure you were free tonight and you still didn't show."

"It hasn't been all week," Harry said. "I just saw you this morning."

"Oh, did you?" Ginny asked. "Was I awake when this happened?"

"Well," Harry thought about this. "No, I guess you weren't," he added, lamely.

Ginny scoffed and shook her head as she pulled out various items, laying them out on the bed.

"Ginny, what's the big deal," Harry said.

"The big deal?" Ginny said. "The big deal is you said you were going to be there. I told Mum that tonight we could finally sit down and finish decisions and help with invitations and—"

"And do you really need me there for that?" Harry asked.

"Ron made sure he was there when him and Hermione were getting married," Ginny said.

"Well Ron gets to make his own schedule, doesn't he?"

"Or he just bothered to give a damn!"

"You told me that you didn't care how involved I was," Harry said. "Just last month, you said it was fine as long I told you about anything I had an opinion on. And I don't!"

"And that gives you the right to just not show up when you say you're going to be somewhere?" Ginny demanded.

"I'm just saying, make the choices. Have the wedding you want."

"It's not a wedding I want, it's a marriage!" Ginny yelled.

Harry sunk back on his heels and swallowed. Ginny's face was red and she looked around, grappling for something to sort. She knelt by the box, pulling things out and folding some towels in between more bathroom items.

"If you want me to take off early tomorrow, I can—"

"It doesn't matter now," Ginny said, dejected. Harry knit his brow. Ginny looked up at him. "Everyone was there. I couldn't even send you an owl because the Ministry was technically closed."

Harry closed his eyes and let out a breath, realizing why Ginny was so angry.

"It wasn't about the wedding. You were planning this for my birthday," he said.

"Took you long enough," Ginny said. "Especially since it's today."

"Ginny, I'm _so_ sorry."

"So," she said. "What were you working on that was so important?"

"What?" Harry asked. He hadn't expected her to ask this.

"What was so important that it kept you this late?" Ginny asked. She turned and looked at him. He wished she would go back to organizing.

"I-it wasn't anything," Harry said. "Nothing important."

Ginny tilted her head. "Are you investigating another Death Eater?" she asked, her voice low.

"Not… technically."

Ginny stood, shoving the box away.

"Ginny—"

"Don't," she said. She left the mess of things on the bed as she walked out of the room, slamming the door.

Harry set the apple on the edge of the dresser and went towards the bed, finding places for all the little things in the box Ginny had started.

* * *

Ginny walked out the front door, taking a deep, steeling breath as she started walking down the street. It didn't help that she had been thinking of what she would say to Harry all evening. She had been at her parents' around four, helping her mum cook and Hermione to decorate. Teddy had been asking when Harry would be there. Ginny made excuses for him, especially as everyone started leaving around eight.

"I'll clean up, dear," Molly said. "Why don't you head home? Unless you'd rather stay?"

Ginny had hoped Harry forgotten and just gone home, but of course he hadn't. Since the war he had been single minded, and it wasn't in his life with her. It was in ending any thread of Voldemort's influence that he could, no matter how tenuous. It only got worse when Ron left his job at the Ministry. Harry seemed to take the mantle in heading up any possible investigation, and when he found any such connection Harry saw nothing else. It was a discussion that was becoming increasingly difficult.

In January Harry had run himself ragged over a possible lead, missing every family event and every planned date. Ginny and Harry had a long conversation in which Harry promised he wouldn't get involved in any more cases with potential Death Eaters. He promised he would pass them along to someone else in the department. Ginny was aware he wasn't sticking by this, but that he would entirely forget plans with her was worse than it had been in a long time.

Ginny walked around the block, going into the office when she got back to the house. She organized the papers she had been working on. Her editor had high standards for the articles and she had one due in two days. She hadn't gotten anything done, she was so mad at Harry. Anything she had written was probably going to have to be redone the next day as it were. Ginny thought about just tossing the parchment, but decided to give herself the night to cool down and see what was actually there with fresh eyes in the morning.

When Ginny went to their bedroom, she heard the shower running. All of the things in the box were put away. Ginny let out a breath, found her pajamas, washed her face and teeth, then curled up into bed. She turned off her own lamp, leaving the other lights on, closing her eyes.

It was another few minutes before she felt the weight of Harry's body as he moved onto the bed. The light flicked off and he turned, spooning her as he wrapped his arms around Ginny's middle. She kept her eyes closed.

"I'm sorry, Gin," he whispered into her ear, his lips grazing her skin.

She let out a breath, turning in Harry's arms as he propped himself up on one elbow, running a hand up and down her side. His hair was still wet, almost more unruly this way. Ginny reached up, playing with a lock of his hair. He continued to look at her.

"You can't chase ghosts forever," Ginny said quietly. Harry nodded, worrying his bottom lip.

"You're right," Harry said. "I'll talk to Hawkins in the morning. Have him reassign this one."

"And the next one?" Ginny asked, tilting her head. Harry licked his lips. "Harry—"

"I'll hand it over," Harry said hastily.

"I can't spend my entire life back in that war," Ginny said. Against her will, tear stung her eyes. She choked back a sob and Harry was looking miserable. She almost felt bad for doing this on his birthday. "I love you, but I can't live like that. I can't have children who would have to live like that. With their father checking in and out of their lives depending on what his current project at work is. Never knowing when we're going to see you. It was one thing when there were actual battles to be fought, but to—"

"I know, I know," Harry whispered. He swallowed. "You're right."

"You said that at the beginning of the year, too."

"Yes, well it's good practice for marriage isn't it?" Harry said with a grin. "Telling you you're right?"

Ginny wasn't in the mood for him to brush this off with a joke. Harry cleared his throat realizing as much.

"I will have a conversation with Hawkins," Harry said. "I'll… I'll tell him he should keep me off cases like that."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"I will," Harry said, pulling her close, the tip of his nose touching hers.

Ginny held Harry's face in her hands, running her fingertips across the hair at the nape of his neck. She lifted herself, kissing Harry, snaking her arms around to pull him closer. Harry returned her hold, placing kisses on her skin all around her face when she pulled away. She breathed him in, knowing that as much as she couldn't imagine a life stuck in the past, she also couldn't imagine a life without Harry. He kissed her once more and Ginny turned back, curling up with Harry holding tight against her.

"Mum made me bring home a large slice of your birthday cake," Ginny said.

"I'll take it to work tomorrow," Harry whispered.

"Too late," Ginny said. Harry shifted, looking at her. "I already ate it."

Harry laughed and, despite herself, so did Ginny. Harry kissed her neck again.

"I think that's fair," he said.

They settled, though Ginny stayed away for a while longer. She knew Harry had drifted off when his hand stopped moving against her waist.

It wasn't as though she didn't think about people who might try and retaliate. She understood where Harry's fixation was coming from. But by now the avid followers were all in Azkaban. Most of the cases he threw himself into that involved someone who _may_ have been involved, usually on completely unrelated suspicions. Still, he couldn't let it go. Ginny squeezed Harry's hand with her own. This was as close to connected as they had been in weeks and she was all too aware that it might be the last time for a few more. As much as he said he was going to hand it back, Ginny didn't know if he could follow through. It might be a moment where someone asked for his expertise on the person or the situation. It might be him overhearing a conversation. And it would suck him back in. And away from her.

* * *

"Come on in," Ron said, opening their door wider. Ginny stepped through the door first, Harry's hand on the small of her back as he followed. Harry handed Ron the bottle of wine they brought. "Oh nice, thanks."

Harry had given Hawkins the case back. He had intended to have a conversation with him about others like it, but Hawkins had been busy and Harry put it off. All week, he kept telling himself how he needed to say something. He had promised Ginny he would and he had resolved to stay off those cases… at least to the extent that he wouldn't take them up anymore.

Harry would be lying if he said he didn't at least want to have anyone that might have some connection to Death Eaters in their past. Even now he had an entire notebook, tracking people that had either been directly involved with Voldemort, family of those directly involved, or individuals repeating the rhetoric Death Eaters had aspired to. It was how he knew about the Nott connection to a possible muggle baiting. He hoped the woman Hawkins had given the case to was up to the task of finding evidence. It took every ounce of willpower on Harry's part not to go check in on her and make suggestions.

"How are you?" Hermione asked as they made it to the kitchen.

"We're good," Ginny answered for them. "You finally got the tiling done in here. It looks nice. Did you do it Ron?"

"I finally convinced him to just hire someone," Hermione answered instead.

"I could have done it," Ron said.

"Of course you could have, love," Hermione said, fighting a grin as she set down a large salad bowl and leaned over to give Ron a kiss on the lips. "I've been working extra hours and I prefer our time together isn't doing home improvements. Besides, the joke shop is doing well enough."

"The new line of fanged frisbees are doing well, then?" Harry asked.

"Yup," Ron answered. "The vampire ones are the most popular."

They all sat around the table and had a nice dinner. Hermione shared how her work in the legal department was going. They had her on several types of cases, but on the side she had insisted on working through house elf legislation. Ginny shared an embarrassing story of talking to a female player on the Wasps for an hour before she realized Kim Stores was a man and she was interviewing the wrong person.

"So who were you interviewing?" Hermione asked as Ron laughed.

"Heather Flynn," Ginny said.

"She heard Flynn from Kim?" Harry asked.

"She must have," Ginny said, then took a sip of wine. "So I just… kept the notes and interviewed Stores as well. I'm going to see if I can't get the other published."

"Classic," Ron choked out.

"What?" Ginny said, a chuckle of her own. "His name is Kim. What was I supposed to think?"

"Kim actually started as a male name," Hermione pointed out.

"You know what that makes you," Ron said, pouring more wine into everyone's glasses. "You're sexist."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please don't."

"No, really," Ron said. "If she had interviewed a man who was supposed to be a woman… I mean, if she had… you know, mistaken a man for a… er…"

"You keep working out that argument, love," Hermione said, patting his knee. "And actually, while you're doing that, maybe you and Harry can go fix up the fence in the back garden?"

"What happened to the fence?" Harry asked.

"That bad storm last week knocked a section down," Hermione said. "Ron keeps saying he would go see if he can get it solid in the ground again, but I'm thinking I might have to hire someone."

"No," Ron said. "No need for that. I and Harry… Harry and myself… we have it."

Harry smiled. It would be quite the job, Ron already getting tipsy like this. He would certainly need help to make sure he didn't end up stuck somewhere out there at the very least.

"Sure, I can help with that," Harry said.

Hermione stood up and started to clear the table. "I've got it," Hermione said, when Ginny stood and tried to pick up one of the dishes. Ron went into the front room to find some shoes.

"Don't worry if you can't get it," Hermione whispered to Harry as he waited by the door. "I have someone I can schedule with quickly if it's not easy."

"Alright," Harry said.

Ron opened the back door, leading the way out towards the broken portion of the fence. He waved his wand and created a lantern that hoovered just in front of them as they walked.

"We've got this," Ron said.

Of course Harry had never repaired a fence, with or without magic. Once they got to the spot, the two poked around for awhile, not really getting very far.

"We'll just…" Ron did a spell and the portion of broken fence raised and set itself upright. As soon as Ron's magic wasn't holding it there, it swayed and fell down again.

"It's got to the be the ground," Harry said, stepping around the fence, pressing the dirt and grass with his foot. "It's too loose right there."

"Oh well, we'll just say it has to be seen by a specialist," Ron said. "You know, I'm getting used to this whole paying other people to do the tedious work around here. I'm getting a bit spoiled."

"You were always a bit spoiled," Harry replied with a grin.

"So what's the real story about you missing your own birthday party?" Ron asked as they headed back in.

"What story did you get?"

"Ginny said she had forgotten about a meeting you said you had," Ron said.

"It wasn't her fault, it was mine," Harry said, slowing down his pace. He scratched the back of his head. "I was working on a case. Someone from the Nott family has been stirring up trouble near Bath."

"What kind of trouble?"

"I don't know," Harry replied. "The usual kind, I guess. The kind we had pass our desks a lot. But he may have been involved in some of the plans prior to the Battle at Hogwarts. We've never been able to prove it."

"But you weren't investigating him as a Death Eater, then."

"No," Harry said. "But you and I both know there were people that helped Death Eaters without ever being punished for it."

"Right," Ron said. He stopped and narrowed his eyes. "What's going on? I mean, why are you talking about all of this to me?"

Harry let out a long breath.

"Ginny's angry with me," he said. "I mean, she's been okay the last couple days, but she's been on me about not getting over-involved at work."

Ron nodded, looking off.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Well, don't take it wrong, but… I mean we've all noticed that you get a bit…" Ron made a face, his eyes widened and his lip curled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's just like you can't let it go," Ron said. "I'm pretty sure if Hawkins didn't make you go home every so often, you would just stay at the Ministry all the time… working."

"Come on, that's not true."

"When there's someone like Nott it is," Ron said. "And I get it."

"I don't think you do," Harry muttered.

"You want to make sure everyone that was involved with all those who died pay for that," Ron said.

Harry froze. "Yeah, well, someone has to."

"I get the feeling," Ron said. "But at some point… we all have to move on, don't we?"

"How did you?" Harry asked.

"Well, I knew I would make more working with George than the Ministry was ever going to pay," Ron said with a lopsided grin. It slackened a moment later. "But really, it just started to wear on me. You know? Like wearing the horcrux. It just got heavier… and harder…"

"I don't feel like that, though," Harry said. "I mean, of course I would rather horrible things didn't happen, but they have to be dealt with."

"That's the thing with you, though, Harry," Ron replied, looking up at the stars and shaking his head. "You never do seem to notice the weight of things until someone else makes a point to help bear the load. You'd hold the whole damn world, if you thought you had to."

"So now I'm Atlas?"

"Who?" Ron asked.

"Nevermind," Harry said, with a forced, breathy laugh.

"Harry, it's just… out of any of us, you're the one that deserves a normal life now," Ron said. "You've already carried enough. Keep fighting the good fight at work… just stop thinking that's all you have to do."

Harry looked at the ground. He wished Ron's advice had been more along the lines of agreeing that Ginny was being unreasonable. Of course, deep down Harry knew that wasn't true anyway. Ron gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze, giving him a sympathetic look before leading the way back into the house again.

All the signs were pointing in one direction. Harry took a deep breath and followed Ron. He would have to start listening.

* * *

Harry had gone through every open case on his desk, returning any that he had taken on because of the name of the person or the possible connection to Death Eater circles. Even with the lighter caseload, there was plenty to keep him busy and he made a point to get home at five every day. Ginny seemed doubtful about the change at first, though she was warming as the first week ended.

They were also getting her settled into the house. There were only a handful of boxes left. Not much at all, and then they would be working to get the yard set to rights. Their countdown to the wedding had also started. Only a few months left and it would all be official. They would even take a honeymoon before Ginny had to start travelling for work again. Harry figured everything he had to look forward to would keep him from getting overly involved and didn't bother talking to Hawkins after all.

The day before Ginny's birthday, Harry had gone to Diagon Alley during lunch, picking up a special quill set she had been looking at as well as a silver charm bracelet—complete with charms in the shape of a broomstick, quaffle, star, and Harpy's logo already attached. He kept the smaller of the two in his robe pocket so he wouldn't forget that one, if he forgot anything. He would need to find a place to hide the box when he got home.

Harry worked through a whole stack of paperwork he had been behind on, trying to add to the folders what he had found out before handing them off to someone else. He was on the last one, flipping through a file concerning various reports all stemming from the same place—Stonehenge.

Harry tilted his head, looking through the folder again. He had picked this one up, the name Travers drawing his attention. There wasn't even certainty the Travers were involved in the sitings, except a spell that circled Stonehedge when candles and rituals were reported as being seen was known as an old family invention belonging to them. Harry looked deeper, remembering a similar report Shacklebolt had shown him, though that one hadn't seemed to have significance before.

He took the folder, going to the general library on their floor, trying to find more information on Stonehenge. There was little and what most of it said indicated Stonehenge drew particularly powerful magic. Harry looked through the law books. It had been a banned place of magic since 1522, when wizards were often being caught trying to create dark spells. Magic that often included the restoration of those who had died.

Harry flipped madly through the books, trying to find more. The full moon, it said, was an ideal time to harness the power of Stonehenge. Harry looked at a lunar calendar amid the others on the wall. The full moon was that night.

He stood, heading towards the lift, the folder tucked under his arm. Harry looked at his watch… five-thirty. He was supposed to be home by six. Ginny wanted some helping cleaning up, since they were having her family and a couple friends over for her birthday the next night.

"I'll just go check it out for a minute," Harry said to himself.

He made it to the main floor and out the door, getting to an apparition point and went as close to Stonehenge as he dared, seeing as muggles were probably still there with the long summer hours.

He landed in the woods and something already didn't seem quite right. As he left the Ministry, it was still generally bright. Not like noon, but it had been daylight. Harry looked up at the sky, wondering if there were just storms in the area. Not a cloud in sight, but the sky was an inky blue, tinting darker and darker. Harry examined his surroundings, looking at his watch again. Six-fifteen. Then seven-twenty-five, then four-fifty. The hands of the watch circled around and around.

"Just a bit," Harry convinced himself. He knew he had time when he left the Ministry, so it only stood to reason that he had the same time now. If it got any darker, he would turn back, Harry thought.

He moved on. Through the trees, Harry found a dirt path leading him directly to the monument. No one was around, though there was a strange light emitting from the grass in the center, tapering towards the outer stones. Harry, held his wand level, looking around to see who had created the spell, but again, he saw no one.

Harry walked slowly, one step at a time. He disillusioned himself before he lost the cover of the trees, moving from one stone to another. He apparated closer, onto the opposite side. That was when he saw the little girl. In the very center, she was looking up at the sky. Her bright blonde hair extended down her back, a light curl at the bottom. She was wearing a simple black shift dress with pockets on the front.

The light brightened and Harry wondered who had done this and how a child could be involved. He grit his teeth, raising his wand and moved in, thinking only to get to the girl. As he set foot on the light, the girl looked at him, dark eyes piercing his and the world went black.

* * *

 _60 days_

The alarm clock shrieked at Harry from across the room. He pushed himself up in his bed, groping around on the side table for his glasses. He finally got to his feet and went to shut the alarm clock off, hitting the button harder than necessary. He needed to remember to move it by that night.

Harry had just moved back, deciding to save on rent and save up for his own place. Besides, how everything had ended for him in London, Harry figured a fresh start was just what he needed. He dug through the suitcase that still held all his clothes, pulling out a shirt and jeans. Going down the stairs, he scratched the back of his head, grabbing the coffee pot and filling it with water as his mother walked through the other door.

"You couldn't get this started for me?" Harry asked Lily. She was putting on her earrings. She rolled her eyes.

"You're quite old enough to make your own coffee, Harry," Lily said, pulling out two bowls and reaching for a box of cereal. "Besides you drink too much of that."

Harry shrugged, measuring out the coffee grounds.

"Hey, champ," James said, coming into the kitchen as well. He walked over, kissing Lily on the cheek and grabbing one of the bowls of cereal. "You sleep alright?"

"Yeah, fine," Harry said. "I'm going down to the station today and meet the Superintendent. He was going to show me around before my first day next week."

"That sounds nice," Lily said, adding milk to her cereal and moving to sit at the small table in the breakfast nook. James joined her, pouring his own and Harry turned, waiting for the coffee to finish. "I'm glad they had a position for you here so quickly."

"Yeah, I lucked out," Harry said.

"I have a few meetings to go to, but we could go to the old cricket field and play around a bit later," James suggested.

"I heard it's all rundown," Harry replied.

"Oh, it's not all that bad," James said. "Come on, for old time's sake?"

Harry grinned. "Alright then," he said. "But I got rid of my bat ages ago, so we'll have to share."

"You can borrow your sister's," Lily replied. "I think I saw it in her room."

Harry turned back, grabbing a mug and filling it with the coffee that had already dripped out. Barely half a cup. He replaced the pot and sipped at what he had.

"That reminds me," Lily said. "Olive is coming home from Uni this weekend, so don't make any plans for Sunday dinner, alright?"

"Yeah, okay," Harry agreed. "Not like I have a social life here yet, anyway."

"Soon enough," Lily promised.

"I better go take a shower," Harry said. "Text me when you're done with work today, Dad."

Harry swished the coffee in the mug, drinking as he walked up the stairs and back into his old room. He grabbed his towel and some underclothing before heading to the bathroom. As he showered he felt his head waking up more fully.

He'd been having a strange dream, but he couldn't quite remember what. He concentrated under the billowing steam. There was a girl in it, that much he remembered. He was holding out something in his hand. He was hurrying towards her. It felt like one of those recurring dreams that seemed to mean something, even though you weren't quite sure what it was. And the more Harry concentrated, the more it seemed to fade until he had given up entirely.

Harry got out of the shower, drying off with a towel. He wrapped it around his waist and looked at himself in the mirror. First was the impossible mess of hair on top of his head, but then he noticed something else. Harry squinted, leaning forward and touching where a strange shadow seemed to lay on his forehead. Unable to see clearly without his glasses, Harry put them on. It disappeared. He rubbed the area where he was sure he'd seen a spot of dirt or something else. He took off his glasses again and there it was. He leaned closer to the glass. It zigzagged across his skin in the shape of a lightning bolt. Harry rubbed. Nothing.

Putting his glasses on again, it went away.

"Just seeing things," Harry told himself, getting dressed. This time he pulled on shoes and sat on the bed, running his fingers through his hair as it dried.

His old boss had contacted the Superintendent in Oxford, where his parents lived. For some, it could take months to get resettled in a new area without taking a demotion, especially when there wasn't a desperate need. He knew he was lucky in this way. Of course, he could have always gone to work for his dad as well, but Harry had never been interested in business the way his father might have liked. Instead, he decided he wanted nothing more than to work in law enforcement. Harry wasn't sure why he had felt so strongly about that decision, but it just felt right. Like it was where he belonged.

Harry looked at himself once more in the mirror. He felt strangely nervous. He hadn't been when he talked with the Superintendent on the telephone. Harry took a deep breath. "You can do this," he said to himself. "You're here to stay."

Harry grabbed his cell phone, wallet, and keys and headed out the door.

* * *

 **A/N:** As an American, I claim ignorance to the ways of British policing and terminology. That said, I did look some things up and am entirely game to be being corrected on any british-isms that I do not know about. As of right now, muggle!Harry will be a Chief Inspector in an attempt to give him an auror-like position. Help welcome! And thank you for all those who have jumped on board this Hinny train!


	3. Automobile

_**Automobile**_

Harry closed the door of his car and sat in the driver's seat, shuffling through the pile of paperwork the man from human resources had handed him. The tour of the police department had gone well. Mostly, it was the same as his job in London: files, coffee, desks with overloaded inboxes, and wearied detectives sitting behind them.

"You got a great recommendation from your last department," Superintendent Keller said. He was a large man. He was a head taller than Harry and had the stature of someone who had played rugby in college. He was cordial enough, but Harry got the impression he wasn't someone you wanted to piss off. "With how much they loved you, I'm surprised you left."

"Oh, you know," Harry replied and cleared his throat. "I just needed a change."

"London is a beast, for sure. Anyway, let's get you in touch with Dewitt. You can have everything ready so we can get you right to it on Wednesday."

Harry thought through the dates Keller brought up to put on the calendar, but had the nagging feeling he was forgetting something. Something vitally important. Harry gnawed on the inside of his cheek. Maybe it was a question he had meant to ask. Or something that he was supposed to do before Wednesday. He glanced at the paperwork. He hadn't left any behind had he? Harry moved on to plans at home. Olive was coming home for the weekend, but he couldn't think of what else had him so stuck. He just knew it was something.

Harry stopped behind a long line of cars, waiting as construction blocked the flow. He growled, flipping the car around impatiently and turning right onto a side street. He squinted, trying to remember which street would get him past the roadwork. He had to stop as a mother and her son were crossing the street.

Just as Harry started going full speed again, there was a little girl to his left on the sidewalk that caught his eye. She was staring straight at him, wide dark eyes and light hair. Her eyes held the intensity of someone much older and Harry's eyes locked on hers.

There was something he was supposed to remember.

"Shit!" Harry shouted.

There was a blur of red hair as he slammed on the brakes, elbows rigid; back and jaw tense. The young woman on the bike swerved to miss the hood of his car, the bicycle wheels tilting with the sudden change of direction, sweeping underneath her as Harry threw the car into park. She landed hard on the asphalt, legs tangled and arms wrapped around her helmeted head out of instinct.

Harry opened his car door, looking up and noticing the stop sign he had missed in his distraction. He swallowed and rushed to the bike, pulling it off the girl as she grimaced, grappling for the clip of her helmet underneath her chin.

"Stay still," Harry said, leaning the bike against the car. "I'll call an ambulance."

"No," she said. Harry blinked stupidly at her. "I have a…"

Harry squatted beside her. She took steadying breaths.

"I had right of way, you know," she finally said.

"I know, I'm sorry, I'll call—"

"No, don't," she said, trying to push herself up.

"You shouldn't—"

"I have a test," the redhead said. She was sitting up, taking deep breaths and examining the road rash below her skirt, just above the knee and all the way down her right calf.

"A test?"

"Yes, a test. You know, questions and answers and grades," she said. "Help me up, would you?"

"No, you need to go get yourself checked out," Harry said. "I'll call an—"

"Don't call an ambulance," the she said. "I'm just a little scratched up. There's nothing they're going to be able to do and it's just going to make me miss the test."

"You might have a concussion," Harry said, awkwardly reaching out to keep her from getting up while resisting touching her, reminding himself she was a complete stranger. You didn't physically restrain complete strangers that you almost hit with your car.

"At least I'll have an excuse if I flunk," she said. She reached for Harry's wrist, tugging in an attempt to pull herself up.

He looked around. There were a few people from the neighborhood coming out, whispering to each other. Harry looked for the little girl, but she wasn't anywhere.

"You nearly hit me," the redhead said, bringing his attention back. "You could at least help me back up."

Harry let out a heavy breath, seeing the dirty looks from some elderly women on the corner, wagging their heads at him. He stood and pulled the redhead to her feet. She grunted and stumbled forward, favoring her right foot.

"Look, just let me—"

"Don't call an ambulance," she growled this time and rolled her eyes. "Oh, hell, the front wheel is bent!"

As though to prove she was fine, the redhead stubbornly tried walking towards her bike. Halfway there, she was all but hopping on her left leg, using the bike to hold herself up once she got to it. She bent over, trying to get the chain back on.

"Look, you can't ride that now," Harry said.

"Thanks for pointing that out," she said with a huff.

"Can I… if you need a ride, I could…" Harry said, feeling his cheeks warm. He looked around again. There were more people coming out.

"Okay," she said with a sigh. She looked at Harry and licked her lips. "You're not some serial killer, right?"

"No," Harry said, feeling his neck get even hotter. "No, of course—"

"I'm joking, lighten up," she said. "I'm hoping you have some room for my bike, though?"

"Er, yeah," Harry said. He hurried forward, taking the bike. The redhead nodded her thanks, using the car to move towards the passenger seat. Harry opened the trunk and fought with the back seat until it lowered, fitting the bike in. It would have been more difficult if the wheel had been the proper, undented size. He got into the car.

He glanced over at the redhead, getting a better look. Her hair was straight and long. She had freckles that speckled her entire face, but they seemed scattered specifically across the bridge of her nose, and brown eyes. She was pretty, even with the strained look on her face as she rubbed her temple and swallowed. She looked over at him.

"I'm going to be late if we don't get going," she said.

"Yeah, right," Harry said. He turned the car on, shifted into gear, and turned toward the right, which had the been direction she was headed when he had caused her to crash.

"Do you know where the main building of Queen's College is?"

"Yeah, I know that one," Harry said. He took a left and they drove in silence until the redhead sucked in a breath, adjusting herself in the seat. "Look, I really think I should take you to the hospital. And we should fill out a report on the accident."

"You know, most blokes would just be glad they weren't going to have some huge fine."

"And most cyclists would have the good sense to go to a doctor," Harry replied. "St. Rose is just five minutes from here."

He stopped at a light and looked over. She was worrying her bottom lip, obviously struggling to not make a face. "Alright, fine," she said. "I won't be able to concentrate now anyway."

Harry let out a breath, signaling to turn right instead. "How's it feeling?"

"Like a car just about hit me," she said. "Let's just not talk about it, right?"

"Maybe something else?"

"How about you start with your name," she said.

"Harry," he said. At least they were close enough to a hospital. He might even be able to get her there before she would have been if she had just let him call the emergency services. "Harry Potter. And you?"

"Ginny Weasley," she said. "Thanks, by the way."

"Yeah, well, it was my fault," he said. "And really, I can make sure we get the right paperwork in."

"You're obsessed with paperwork," Ginny said.

"I'm not obsessed," Harry replied.

"Yes you are. And calling ambulances. Let me guess, you're an insurance adjuster? Barrister? Ambulance chaser?"

"No," Harry said. "I'm actually a detective."

"Ah! That explains it!"

"You know, I could get into a lot of trouble not following protocol."

"Just get me to that doctor and I'll vouch for you," Ginny said. She adjusted herself again. "And I'm guessing you have a cell phone?"

Harry gave her a strange look. "Yeah," he said. "How did you—"

"They say that cell phones are causing a rise in distracted driving."

"I wasn't using my cell—"

"Yeah, I don't care," Ginny said. "But would you mind if I borrowed it a mo?"

Harry let out a breath and dug the cell phone out of his pocket at the next stop sign. She flipped it open and dialed a number as he turned into the farthest parking lot of the hospital complex.

"Ron, this is Ginny," she said after a wait. "Don't freak out, but I'm going to be at St. Rose for a bit. If you get this, I could probably use a ride at some point. No rush, just when you get to it. Bye."

She flipped the phone closed and held it out to Harry.

"I can give you a ride."

"You don't have anything better to do, detective?"

"Er—" Harry wasn't sure how to answer. Ginny was practically smirking at him. Smirking between the strained looks of pain that she was trying to hide. "I should at least stay to make sure you're really alright."

Ginny didn't argue as he parked and got to the passenger side, opening the door and holding out his hand to her.

"What a gentleman," she said, gripping tightly and getting up, leaving her weight on her left leg. Harry took her backpack and she left the helmet on the floor of the car. He wrapped a hand around her waist and helped her move towards the Emergency Room door.

Ginny was bothering less and less with the pretense that she wasn't in pain, leaning heavily against him until Harry lowered her into a chair and went to the front desk. He wrote Ginny's name to the ledger and grabbed a clipboard. He went back to where Ginny sat, handing her the paperwork.

Harry sat beside Ginny, crossing ankle over knee as he waited. He pulled his cell phone out, sending his mum a text message.

 _Will be late._

Several minutes later his phone buzzed.

 _Everything alright?_

 _Fine._ He replied.

"Alright, done," Ginny said.

Harry took the papers back to where a grouchy receptionist sat, going through the papers. When he returned to Ginny, he stayed standing, crossing his feet as he watched her.

"You need anything to drink?"

"Not unless you happen to have some margaritas lying around," Ginny said.

"Sorry, not prepared."

"Damn," Ginny said with a slight grin.

Harry looked at the clock. It was just past one.

"So what was this test?" he asked, hoping to distract her until her name was called.

"Oh, chemistry," Ginny said. "It's not exactly my forte. I guess I'll have to send a message to the professor when I get the chance. See if she'll let me retake it."

"I thought it was summer break," Harry said.

"It's a summer class," Ginny replied.

"Oh, right," Harry said. "I should have realized. My sister is taking summer courses in Edinburgh."

"Really?" Ginny asked. Harry sunk into the chair across from her. "What does she study?"

"Engineering something or other. Environment? I don't know, something that begins with an E."

Ginny grinned. "Little sister, then, is it?"

"How did you know?"

"I have six older brothers. And I have yet to meet an older brother that really knows what his little sister is up to."

"Six?" Harry asked.

"Yup," Ginny said.

"What on earth would possess anyone to have that many children?"

"The hopes of ending up with me," Ginny said with a smile.

"Ginevra Weasley," a man in scrubs called from the door.

Ginny turned towards the sound. "Well, that's me," she said.

Harry hurried forward, holding her up around her waist again.

"Only family is allowed back here," the man said.

"He's my boyfriend," Ginny said without hesitation. Harry looked at her, dumbstruck.

"Alright, then. Just had to check," the man said, looking at the chart. "This way, Ms. Weasley."

They were ushered into a room where the male nurse poked and prodded, looking at Ginny's steadily swelling right ankle and foot. She was looking at the other developing bruises and abrasion as well as Harry sat in the corner of the room, trying to be as invisible as possible. The nurse asked various questions and Harry wished he could duck out without being noticed. At the same time, he felt obligated to keep Ginny from being alone while they figured out what was wrong. He needed to make sure she didn't change her mind on submitting a report. He should really talk her into it, too. How would it look to start a new job in law enforcement and never make sure this was reported?

"Well, let's get some x-rays to see what else is going on," the nurse said. The man opened the door and stuck his head out. "Eliza, can we get a wheelchair over here? Eliza?"

The nurse left them in the room alone.

"You're really free to go," Ginny said quietly.

"I don't have anywhere I have to be," Harry replied. "Besides, we really should file a report. My insurance should cover—"

"I have insurance," Ginny waved him off. "And you didn't technically hit me."

"It's still my fault. I at least need to make sure you get home alright. Your bike is in the back of my car."

"Good point," Ginny said, looking off.

The door opened back up and the nurse entered with the wheelchair. Harry followed them out of the room and then stayed by the door.

"You can wait here," the woman pushing Ginny's wheelchair said.

Harry looked up and down the hallway, finding a set of chairs where he could sit and wait. He tried to remember exactly what had distracted him, but now he couldn't remember. It was something he saw. Something down that street. But it was like now, it was just gone.

He needed to get some decent sleep before starting work the next week.

"Sir, sir," a frantic nurse said, following a tall man with hair a similar bright red as Ginny's.

"Ginny?" he asked striding fast, though Harry didn't need this to know who the man was looking for. "Back off, lady."

Harry swallowed and stood. The man shrugged off the nurse, who was looking increasingly irritable.

"You're look for your sister?" Harry asked. The man stopped in his tracks and looked at Harry, taking him in.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"I, er, I brought her here. It was my phone she used to call… you, I'm guessing," Harry said.

"Where is she?" he asked.

"They took her to get x-rays," Harry said. He swallowed. Ginny's brother hadn't eased in the slightest. In the back of his mind the fact that there were five more flashed prominently. "Nothing too bad. Something with her leg. They should be back soon."

"And who are you?"

Harry swallowed again. "Well, I er… I was driving and… well, I didn't see the stop sign until the last minute and…"

"You hit her?!" he shouted. One nurse picked up a phone. Harry thought he heard her mutter security.

"No, not exactly," Harry said, straightening himself up, though this bloke still stood half a head above him. He licked his lips. "The bike just—"

"Ron?" Ginny's voice rang from the end of the hall.

Harry figured her timing was as good as it could get. Harry and Ron both turned. Ron rushed towards her. The nurse pushing the wheelchair stopped as Ron bent down on her level, muttering. They talked more quietly as a security guard made it to the main desk. He looked on, but it seemed the nurse didn't think it was quite so necessary now. Still, the security guard waited, watching.

"It's fine," Ginny said, this audible. "Ron, stop freaking out, alright?"

"You can wait in the room, Ms. Weasley," the original male nurse suggested. Ron took a deep breath and moved to push the wheelchair himself as Ginny pointed to the room they had been in.

"Wait," Ginny said to Ron as they came level with Harry. She smiled at him. Her kind smile seemed to make Harry feel more guilty than anything else. "You can come in."

"No, he can't," Ron said.

"Ron—"

"It's alright, I can go," Harry interrupted. "Is there somewhere I can drop off your bike? And I should at least pay—"

"You better believe you're going to pay," Ron snapped.

"Ron!" Ginny said firmly again, then turned back to Harry. Ron scowled at him, biting the inside of his cheek. "I live at—"

"Nope, you're not giving out your address," Ron said, pushing her towards the room. "I'll buy you a new bike."

"I don't want a new bike, Ron, I want mine!" she argued. He continued to push the wheelchair into the room and away from Harry, though. Ginny was yelling at her brother about being rude and he was yelling back about perverts in this town and how it didn't matter if she didn't get her bike.

Harry started to head towards the exit rather than continuing to listen to their fighting. He noticed one of the attendants drop a folder onto the desk. He stopped. Everyone else seemed distracted and he could see the last name Weasley on the tab of the folder. He checked once more that no one was paying him attention and opened the file.

46 North Fulton Rd.

Harry closed the folder and repeated the address in his mind the entire way out. When he got to his car, he pulled out a pen and wrote it down on one of the instructional sheets of the paperwork he had gotten at the police department. With a deep breath, he turned on the car and headed home.

* * *

Ginny struggled up the steps that lead to the front door of Ron's house on her crutches. Ron was carrying her backpack along with two small paper bags; the first with Chinese take-out and the second was a small pharmacy sack with the pain-killers the doctor had prescribed her. She still needed to email the professor. She hoped this didn't seem like an excuse to get out of the exam.

"There you go," Ron said, opening the front door, even with his arms full.

All in all, he was nice to have around. He had been working for a small computer company in Oxford for two years before Ginny applied to University and started her undergraduate program. He had done well enough that he owned this small house and Ginny paid him minimal rent, rather than getting a place of her own. On occasion, it was a pain in the ass. Like when he stormed the hospital today. She gave up trying to convince him that Harry hadn't done it on purpose. And now she was probably never going to see her bike again.

But the pain of the crash was becoming fully apparent, her head hurting more than her leg and the skin that was scratched up burned. It was nice having Ron usher her around, instead of having to stick it out to get food and the medication on her own.

"Sit down," Ron said. He fluffed some pillows, helping Ginny prop up her leg up as she settled in. "What can I get for you?"

"I need to borrow your laptop," Ginny said. There were half a dozen computers around, each in various functioning states. "I have to email—"

"That can wait until you're feeling better."

"Ron," Ginny whined. "I need to now. Then you can be as protective as you'd like."

"Just one email?" Ron asked, considering this.

"Just one," Ginny promised. "Then you can be as bad as Mum."

Ron cracked a grin. "No one's as bad as Mum."

He walked over to his office, coming out with his laptop. He handed it over to Ginny.

"You know I have to call her, by the way."

"Just as long as you give me enough time to fall asleep before she gets here," Ginny said, opening a browser and typing in her school email account.

Ginny could hear Ron as he tried to talk down their mum. Their parents lived nearly two hours away and Ginny would bet she'd be here within an hour. If Ginny was lucky, it would just be their mum. She settled back, reaching for a plate of food Ron had set near her.

Ginny wondered if Harry was alright. She knew it was odd for her to worry about him. After all, he had been the one that caused her to crash, but he had been so earnest. And curiously honorable. It was like he was helping her because it was the good thing to do, not out of pure guilt. She had been sure as soon as they took her to get the x-rays, he would have left.

"Ginny, Mum wants to know if you want some banana bread," Ron said.

"If I ever say no to that, euthanize me," Ginny said.

"Yeah, Mum, she'll take some banana bread… no… no, I'm not just saying that so you'll bring some to me," Ron said. He stood, walking towards the kitchen. "Ginny said she wants some, Mum."

Ginny smiled, taking a deep breath.

"Alright, Mum. Yes, Mum, I'll make sure she takes one after she's done eating…. Okay… okay, we'll see you soon." Ron closed his phone. Ginny heard the water running and a moment later he was handing her a glass of water and one of the pills. "Mum's on her way."

Ginny grinned at Ron. "Maybe she'll clean this place up while she's here."

"I better at least tidy the kitchen," Ron said. He stepped closer to her instead, trying to feel Ginny's forehead. She swatted at his hand.

"Stop," she said. "Bike crashes don't cause fevers!"

"I just… are you okay?" he asked, staying close and crossing his arms. "I just feel like there should be something else to do."

"No, I'm fine," Ginny said. "I mean it, I'm fine."

"Okay," Ron said. "I have the rest of the day off, so whatever you need. Anything you want."

"I just need to rest," Ginny said. She settled back on the couch. Laying her head against the arm of the chair.

"Wait until we give you some medicine, right?" Ron said, standing.

Ginny sat back up, remembering something.

"Actually, could you get my ring?" Ginny asked. "I left it on the dresser in my room."

"You don't always wear it?" Ron asked, stopping in the doorway to the kitchen.

"I didn't in chemistry. At first, in case we were actually doing anything with actual chemicals, but now just out of habit," Ginny replied with a shrug.

Ron turned, heading into the kitchen and bringing out a plate full of food, a glass of water, and the little prescription bottle, which he set beside Ginny before going up the stairs, bringing back the gold diamond ring that she pushed onto her left ring finger. All of her fingers were swelling slightly, but not as bad as everywhere else.

"Why didn't Daniel come get you, anyway?"

Ginny rubbed the underside of the ring with her thumb while she dug into her food.

"He's out of town on business," Ginny replied. Though in truth, it hadn't occurred to her to call Daniel at all. "I'll make him help me when he's back."

"I don't like him," Ron said.

Ginny just rolled her eyes and shook her head. Of course Ron didn't like her fianceé. He never had liked anyone she had gone out with; on principle, it seemed.

"Well, it's a good thing you're not marrying him, then," Ginny said. "Did they include sauce packets?"

Ron continued to jump and grab Ginny whatever she needed, encouraging her to relax as he hoovered. She thought about how she should see if the professor had responded, but couldn't as she closed her eyes. Half asleep, she noticed Ron drape a blanket over her and take away the glass she had balanced in the crook of her arm. Ginny had a list of things she needed to take care of cycling in her mind, like a strange sort of lullaby.

She still wasn't fully asleep when her mum came crashing through the door, rushing next to Ginny, her fingers gently playing with Ginny's hair as Ginny continued to pretend to be asleep just to feel the tender touch from her mother.

"She said she didn't want to fill out a report," Ron whispered. Their mum tsked.

Ginny let their voices fade into the background as sleep finished taking her over with one last glimpse at the man with striking green eyes.

* * *

"You almost killed someone!" Olive laughed.

Despite himself, Harry smiled, switching his phone to the other ear.

"It's really not funny," he said. "She could have been hurt worse than that, you know. Luckily the traffic in that area was thin."

"Did you ask her out then?" Olive asked. "I mean, if she had a concussion, she might have been amenable to you."

"God, Olive, don't you have anything better to do than turn every conversation into a matchmaking scheme?"

"My advisor told me I needed hobbies outside of school."

"Speaking of, Mum said you cancelled your trip home for the weekend," Harry said. "What the hell is that about?"

"I know, I was gutted," Olive said. "But there's this thing… interviews for Spring internships… I just can't miss it. It was all last minute."

"You know Mum's disappointed," Harry said. He set the bike frame onto the makeshift holder, finding the right wrench to get the ruined front tire off of Ginny's bike.

"I know," Olive said. "But I'll be there soon enough."

"Yeah, well, until then, I get all the extra attention set on me," Harry said.

"I'll call her on Sunday," Olive promised. "You know, you could always come visit me."

"Once I get settled, that would be good," Harry said.

"And then I could find you a hen up this way," she added. There was a long silence."No matter how angry she was, she did love you."

Harry let out a long breath.

"I know," Harry replied.

Another silence.

"Well, I better be off," Olive said. "Tell Mum and Dad I say hello."

"Will do."

"And try not to run anyone over!" Olive added.

Harry grinned.

"'Bye, Olive."

* * *

 **A/N:** Again, I only have the vaguest idea of the collegiate/university system in the UK and welcome any clarifications readers may have! Thank you for those of you who have reviewed so far!


	4. Reaquainted

**A/N:** Dearest readers, I promise I have not forgotten you or these stories! I had a portion of this chapter written for a while, but I just haven't had much time for pleasure writing lately, so I'm sorry for the long wait. I will try to get back into the swing of things, but I can't guarantee anything. I hope you enjoy this one! ~Sarcasma

 _ **Reaquainted**_

 _55 days_

Ginny leaned on one crutch as she brushed through her hair in the bathroom.

"What would Mum say?" Ron asked, standing at the door. He hadn't stopped pestering her all morning.

"Mum already knows I'm going in to school today," Ginny replied. "It's been over a week, Ron, and I have to take this test, or I'm going to fail the class."

"Your health is more important than some class," Ron continued. "That's the problem with the way our entire education system has been set up. Everyone is more concerned about meeting some unrealistic set of requirements to the extent that they would kill themselves over it!"

Ginny rolled her eyes and put a little face lotion on her fingertips, rubbing it into her skin. Ron had been more than accommodating. Accommodating to the point of annoyance, in fact. That morning was the most Ginny had moved all week and she could already tell her body had been hoping for an increase in pace. For the few days their mother had come, she had at least helped Ginny sit on the back porch, the two of them shelling peas or peeling potatoes while getting some fresh air. Since Mum left, Ron had jumped up any time Ginny even inched to get up for something, running for it instead.

"...and he was never able to walk the same way again," Ron said.

Ginny wasn't even sure who he was talking about, she had tuned him out so thoroughly. She turned and grabbed her crutches.

"Shouldn't you be at work by now?"

"I told my boss how I had to take care of my reckless sister and would work from here. Apparently he's a brother, because he said he understood," Ron said. His phone rang from his bedroom. "I'm not done," he added and took the stairs two at a time.

Ginny went into the kitchen and found a bagel, sinking onto a stool. She pulled a bit of the bagel off and ate, thinking through the answers she had reviewed the night before. When the doorbell rang, Ginny grabbed the crutches again, trying to move quickly. Ron must have been on the phone with someone important, because even at her slow pace she managed to get to the door before he was even in sight. She opened the door and smiled.

"Hey, Hermione, how are you?"

"I'm fine, but what about you?" she said quickly. Ginny balanced herself and opened the door wider. Hermione stepped inside the house. "I can't even believe you were hit by a car!"

"Well, not technically," Ginny said. "He stopped just short, thank god. Admittedly, I played that bit up in case Dr. Schaffer wasn't going to budge on a retake."

"She would have to," Hermione said. "The University has a policy on excused absences. You did get a doctor's note, right?"

"Yeah, I already had it sent over," Ginny said. "We should go before—"

"Ginny!" Ron shouted from up the stairs. His feet pounded down the steps. "Ginny, don't go with whatever rat bastard robot to the machi—"

Ron stopped in his tracks at the bottom of the stairs, blinking stupidly at Hermione. Ginny pressed her lips together and pushed back a smile back. Hermione had raised an eyebrow at him, her lips pursed to the side. Ginny recognized the look. It was one Hermione regularly gave to idiot boys at the school, giving cheesy, nonsense lines in an attempt to pick her up.

"Ron, this is my friend, Hermione Granger," Ginny said. "She's in her final year at the college. Hermione, this is my brother, Ron."

"Charmed," Hermione said flatly.

"Ginny," Ron said instead, focusing on her. "I'm just going to say this one more time. You aren't back to yourself yet. And I can tell you aren't ready to move around. You should stay and rest. Bollocks to the exam."

"Bollocks. Exam. Noted," Ginny said. She readjusted the crutches.

"You're still going?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Yup," Ginny replied.

"But—"

"You know, women have been capable of taking care of themselves for a while now," Hermione said, a hand on her hip. Ginny kept moving—somewhat clumsily—towards the door. "Decades even. They've even deemed us sufficiently able to vote as well."

"Ah, you're one of those femi-nazis," Ron said. "Well, that's just priceless!"

Ginny was going down the front steps, just waiting for Hermione to explode. She'd heard the tirade before and Ginny had to admit there was a part of her thoroughly entertained that Ron was about to get a piece of it as well.

"At least I've been upgraded from a rat bastard robot," Hermione said instead. The door slammed behind her a moment later and she clipped at a fast pace towards her car, opening Ginny's side for her before shuffling to her own.

Ginny got into the car, adjusting the crutches beside her. She reached over and clicked the seat belt into place. Hermione huffed as she did the same.

"I was really hoping to hear one of your lectures," Ginny said. "It's been awhile."

"Yes, well, we're on a schedule," Hermione said. She placed the key fob into the ignition and turned on the car. Before putting it into gear she looked over to Ginny seriously. "If you're still not feeling well, you know that Dr. Schaffer would give you more time, right?"

"I know," Ginny said. "But, really, I'm fine and I have to get out of the house. I'm going mad just laying there, with Ron running around doing everything for me."

Hermione nodded, looked behind her shoulder, and put the car into reverse, backing out of the short drive.

"How can he take that much time off, anyway?" Hermione asked.

"My brother works in computer programming," Ginny said. "Independent company. Half the time he works from home anyway."

"I've heard that pays well, too."

"Yeah, he seems to do alright. He has pretty much every popular video game console," Ginny said. "Half of them are taken apart and reprogrammed."

Hermione gave a grudging shrug that indicated she was at least slightly impressed.

Ginny and Hermione had a class together the year before; a history of anatomy seminar which Hermione was taking as an extra elective. Ginny would have never gotten through that one without Hermione, whose abilities to take notes outstripped anyone Ginny had ever met before. Ginny had always done relatively well in school, but she was also always better in literature and writing classes, rather than those in the sciences. Ginny had thought the class would be more reading and less rote memorization. Hermione, who was planning to continue in a medical program, had that part down.

"How was your summer?" Ginny asked.

"It was nice," Hermione said. "The vaccination clinic seemed like a good step, but I'm going to propose we do more of a training program for the orphanage system there next year. See if we can't get local nurses involved so they have year round care."

"Big ambitions."

They discussed the classes they were registered for the fall. Hermione was mid-warning concerning the British Lit class professor when they arrived at the curb just in front of the chemistry building. Ginny edged out of the car, adjusting her bag and crutches and turning to close the car door. Hermione lowered the window.

"I'm just going to the bookstore to buy my books while you're in there. Would you like me to pick up yours?"

"No, I'm searching used," Ginny said. "But thanks."

"Well then, good luck! I'll be here when you're done."

Ginny smiled as Hermione drove off, then turned toward the building, taking a deep breath and made her way inside.

* * *

"How's this project going?" Lily asked, leaning against the doorway into the garage, a glass of water in one hand.

Harry wiped the sweat from his forehead, setting down the gears.

"Figuring it out," he said. "Half of this has been jury-rigged, from what I can tell."

Lily came in, looking closer as she handed Harry the glass. He took it and drank it down.

"This is very nice," Lily said.

"Yeah, well, Ginny was awfully nice after I broke her leg and all," Harry said. "I'm just waiting for the new wheel I ordered to come in, then I should be able to wrap it up."

"I'm sure she'll be grateful," Lily replied. She sat on the edge bench of a long forgotten weight set James had bought and swore he would use all the time. "How's work shaping up?"

"It's fine," Harry said. He set the glass aside and picked the wrench back up, trying to loosen a rusted bolt. "They're starting to schedule me into some of the more basic rotations."

"The workload about the same as London?"

"More or less," Harry said. "There seems to be less tourist reports being made, which is a nice change."

Lily nodded, picking up a tool from the ground, turning it in her hands.

"It's very nice to have you back here," she said. "I don't know if I've said so."

"The treacle you made my first night back was a good hint," Harry replied with a crooked grin. Lily smiled back.

"Yes, well, what does a poor mother have besides favorite desserts to lure her children home on occasion."

"That's a trick that works more with Olive than me."

"True," Lily said. She tilted her head. "Speaking of, your dad and I were going to schedule a trip to Scotland to see her in a few weeks."

"She'll like that," Harry said.

"Did you want to come with?"

"I'll have to see what the schedule at work is looking like," Harry said. "But I'm still on the bottom of the totem right now. They seem to spread it around, but I'm going to guess that weekend shifts aren't shared the same way."

"I guess there's always Christmas," Lily chuckled.

"I do have some things for you to take up Olive's way."

"Remind me when it gets closer," Lily said. She stood and Harry picked the glass up again, handing it to his mother. "I'll leave you to this. You have an hour before supper."

"Thanks," Harry muttered, concentrating on the bike.

He squinted, trying to figure out just how the chain was supposed to loop through all of this. Harry hadn't had a bike since he was about ten, and even then he didn't ever remember fixing it himself. He figured he would have to go out and buy some sort of manual on the subject. He let out a breath and went into his room, grabbing his set of keys. Harry got into his car and made his way to the local bookstore. Certainly they would have a repair manual.

He meandered until he found the mechanical books and pushed them back and forth, bypassing the ones about cars and robots until he hit on the right topic. He squinted while shuffling through some that seemed to have promise as something caught his eye at the end of the aisle, where a reading nook began. There was a young woman lounged in one of the armchairs. Her legs were crossed to the side, her bushy brown hair hiding half of her face as she looked intently at the book in her lap. She had a paper coffee cup in one hand, but it was the way her mouth was set that reminded Harry of something… of someone.

The reader was biting the bottom right corner of her lip—just the corner. The rest of the lip plumped out as a result. Her teeth worried the bit it had caught back and forth as she concentrated. Even with her hair obscuring his view, Harry could picture the rest of the face; brows knit, eyes nearly crossed, yet somehow instead of squinting, they were wider, as though more could be absorbed this way. The image was in his mind, but he couldn't remember why he knew this. He set down the book in his hand and moved toward her. She started to bounce her foot.

A small girl stood behind the young woman in the chair. Harry turned, blinking, wondering when she appeared. And then a new set of memories came flooding back. He'd seen this girl. She was the girl that stared at him before he almost hit Ginny. She was what had distracted him.

"Hey!" Harry shouted.

The girl's eyes widened and she turned, running. The reader lifted her head, scowling, but Harry ran after the girl. The girl's bright hair flowed behind her as she darted between two rows of shelves. Harry cut across the aisle beside hers. He was held up by an older couple who walked right in front of him. As he sidestepped them, the girl went out the door.

"Slow down!" one of the clerks shouted at Harry, but he pushed on, shoving past two people trying to get into the bookstore.

One of them cursed at him, but he went outside anyway, looking both ways on the sidewalk. She was gone.

She was gone …

Who's gone? Harry thought. He knew he followed someone out here, but the reason faded and now...

Harry turned back towards the bookstore. One of the clerks gave him a nasty look, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Harry let out a breath. He would just go to the library.

* * *

 _52 days_

"I know, Ginny, but I was asked if I could pick up another route," Daniel said.

She shifted the phone to her other ear. She couldn't help the huff that came out.

"Ron already left," Ginny said. "I told him not to wait around because you told me you were going to be here!"

"The extra money will help with the wedding, Gin."

Ginny shook her head, licking her lips.

"I'll be ready to go in the morning," Daniel said. "I can finish the run tonight and I can pick you up first thing in the morning and we can go then."

"Charlie is leaving tomorrow afternoon."

"So you'll get to see him a few hours still. No big deal," Daniel said.

"No… it's no big deal to you," Ginny said. "I told you this was important to me. My whole family is going to be there. If you had just called me last night, I could have told Ron I needed a ride."

"Well, I'm sorry," Daniel said. "I didn't get the notification until late and then I was working all day."

Silence sat between them. Ginny bit back half a dozen things she knew would only make this worse. Instead, she shook her head, eyes closed.

"Gin?"

"Fine," Ginny said. "I'll see you in the morning."

"I'll be there early," Daniel replied. "You have something fun to do tonight?"

"Just relaxing," Ginny said. She picked up a tennis ball, gripping it tightly.

"Okay, well I'll be by early. Maybe… nine?"

"Sure," Ginny said.

"Love you," Daniel said.

Ginny grit her teeth, then let it go, the tension releasing as she gave up the desire to tell Daniel off. "You, too," she said.

Ginny hung up and crutched towards the couch, sinking down and grabbing a magazine to flip through. Ron would be angry. He already didn't like Daniel much. Of course he had never liked anyone she dated, so that wasn't much of a metric. She mindlessly turned pages, imagining what it would be like to have someone more reliable than Daniel. Someone who was around when she needed them. Someone who appreciated her independence, but didn't take it for granted that she wouldn't want them around. Any time he pulled a stunt like this, Ginny's mind cycled through all the other times he had ditched her. There was the first anniversary, which he put off a week because a friend was going to be in town. Other times work got in the way. His obsession over Death Eaters.

Her head ached a moment at the thought… Death Eaters. That wasn't a thing. It had to be from some movie, but Ginny was too distracted by the pang to think much more on it. Besides, Daniel was just being Daniel. He got wrapped up in these things, but it's wasn't out of ill intentions. At least he was a hard worker.

Ginny laid back, adjusting the pillows. She should probably call her family so they wouldn't expect her, but she couldn't get up the energy. After Ron left that morning, Hermione had swung by and helped Ginny get down to the library to get a jump start on some of her coursework. She would never admit it to Ron, but going out and trying to navigate on crutches the last few days had worn her out entirely. She closed her eyes.

A hard knock on the door jolted Ginny awake. The sun had dipped down so that the room was barely visible as she grappled for the lamp on the side table. Someone knocked a second time.

"Jus-a… jus'a mo!" she said, rubbing sleep from her eyes and looking for her second crutch.

Ginny made her way clumsily to the front door, turned on the porch light on, and looked through the peephole. She scrunched her brows, certain that was Harry, though uncertain of why he would be here. Edging back, she opened the door just a crack. Harry caught her eye and smiled. Ginny swallowed.

"Can I help you?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, er, hi," Harry said. "I, er…. I don't know if you remember me, but—"

"I remember you," she interrupted, unable to help smiling "The cast is a decent reminder. "

Harry flushed at this, running his hand over his already-messy hair. Ginny would have felt so bad if she hadn't enjoyed the gesture.

"How did you get my address?" Ginny asked. Logically she knew she should be more concerned by this than she felt. Instead, she opened the door wider, leaning against the frame.

"I, er… I looked at your file in the hospital when no one was looking," Harry admitted, not quite meeting her eye. He began to speak faster. "I wouldn't have ever done something like that, but… well… your brother was upset and I wanted to… er, I would have been here sooner, but the frame needed an odd size, and it took a while to track down just the right one and then the—"

"I'm sorry, but I should probably be going," Ginny cut him off again. She shouldn't have opened the door in the first place. She thought about what Ron might think. She started to close the door.

Harry caught it, looking at her again. "I'm sorry, I didn't… I brought back your bike."

Ginny stopped watching as Harry skipped down the steps, the bike leaning up against the single tree in the yard. Only it looked better than it ever had before. There was a new, un-bent tire, the paint was touched up, the gears were shining, and the seat had been replaced.

"I wanted to bring it sooner," Harry said. "But the wheel… well, it was a specialty size. I couldn't find a shop that didn't have to order it. Older frame."

Ginny continued to stare as Harry carried it up onto the porch for a closer look.

"My dad put it together," Ginny said, a knot catching in her chest. She had been angry at Ron for not going out with Harry to get her bike in the first place, but there had been so much going on at the time it was soon forgotten. This was in part because Ginny knew that she wouldn't ever see Harry again. She thought she wouldn't at least. "He isn't the best mechanic, but it worked."

Ginny touched the bike handle, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I-I'm sorry," Harry said. "I just… I didn't mean to upset you."

"No," Ginny said, shaking it away. "Sorry, I'm just tired. This was very kind. Really."

"It was the right thing to do," Harry replied with a humble shrug. "I can just… I can leave it where ever you need."

"Er, how about in the back? If you don't mind."

"No, of course not," Harry said. He visibly relaxed as he lifted the bike by its frame. Ginny moved out of his way and he carried the bicycle through the town house. Ginny tried to keep up, but he was to the back door and setting the bike against the porch railing by the time she had made it outside.

Ginny continued to stare at the improvements, amazed that anyone would do this when for all intents and purposes, they were off the hook.

"Can I get you a drink or anything?" Ginny asked. "Some tea maybe?"

"Is your brother home?" Harry asked, looking towards the second story.

"No, he's at my family's," Ginny said.

"Oh, okay… then I guess… sure," Harry said. He followed her, standing awkwardly in the kitchen as Ginny grabbed the teapot, filling it with water and getting it warming on the stove. She grabbed a stool and sunk into it across from him.

"So how long did you spend working on that?" Ginny asked.

"Not much," Harry said with a shrug. "Just a bit here and there outside of work. Did you ever get that… test taken care of?"

"Yes," Ginny said with a half smile. "And I'm pretty sure the professor went easy on me after being nearly killed. So thank you, I think I may have gotten a grade higher thanks to you."

Harry tried not to grin at this, giving him a slightly ashamed look, though his lips kept twitching upward. Ginny crutched over to the cupboard, opening it up and trying to reach for the only clean tea cups on the top shelf.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, standing. "I should have gotten that for you. Please, let me."

Ginny stepped aside and Harry finished this off, placing the cups near the stove and tea kettle.

"Your brother out tonight?" Harry asked.

Ginny could tell he was worried Ron would show up.

"He's down with my family," Ginny said. She sighed. "I was supposed to go down there tonight, too."

"Oh? Why didn't you?"

"My ride fell through," Ginny said.

"I could drive you," Harry said.

Ginny leaned back on the counter. Harry and turned, mirroring her stance, looking serious.

"My parents live in Devon," Ginny said. "But—"

"No, I can take you," Harry interrupted enthusiastically. "Really, I don't have anywhere to be."

"Harry, that's really kind—"

"I want to," Harry said earnestly. "I mean, if you still wanted to go."

Ginny bit her bottom lip staring at the worn spot on the tea kettle. She thought of Charlie. He was only there until the afternoon tomorrow. Mum was supposed to make a big dinner that night. And Bill was going to be there with his new girlfriend. Everyone was meeting her. Sure, she was going to be there tomorrow, but tonight would be when a bunch of them would gather and gossip, deciding what they thought about her. And games. She would miss whatever games they would be playing.

"Please, Ginny," Harry said. She met his eyes. "I would really like to make everything up to you. Let me give you a ride?"

There was something captivating about his green eyes. Green eyes, dark hair. She almost didn't remember what he had just said.

"Okay," Ginny said. She took a deep breath. "I need to pack a quick bag… and I'm paying for petrol."

"Not on your life," Harry said.

Ginny grinned, adjusting crutches under her arms, and headed towards the stairs. At least everything had been laid out. If she could grab all the last minute things, she would be home about the same time they were expecting her.

* * *

Harry watched as Ginny went towards the staircase. This had gone better than he ever might have expected. He had been worried that Ginny's brother would be home and send him away without even letting him give Ginny her bike back. He had a backup for that as well. He bought a bike lock and, if Ron had been an issue, Harry would have found a place to lock it up and mail the key and the location to Ginny directly.

The fact that not only had this gone smoothly, but that he found something else to do for her, was better than he could have expected. He pulled his cell phone out and called his parents' number.

"Hello?" James's voice came from the other end.

"Hey, Dad," Harry said. "What are you and Mum up to tonight?"

"We were going to the cinema, I think," James said. "Want us to wait for you to join?"

"No, no I'm alright," Harry said. "I just wanted to make sure Mum wasn't expecting me."

"Oh, so you're saying you're too good for us," James said, his best Monty Python voice taking over, exaggerating the offense in his voice. "I see how it is. Give you your room back, feed you… and now you're too good to spend a Friday night with your dear old parents?"

"How about we make an appointment for tomorrow?"

"Is being with your parents on a Saturday night as pathetic as being with them Friday night?" James asked.

"Close," Harry said. "Practically the same."

"Alright then," James conceded. "As long as we keep your self esteem nice and low."

Harry smiled. "Alright, Dad. I'll make sure that happens."

"Just make sure you let us know if we're expecting you back late. You know how your mum gets. Can't sleep if she thinks you're supposed to be back."

"Okay, I'll call again and let you know my ETA. Enjoy your movie."

"Will do," James said. "Love you, son."

"You, too."

Harry sank onto a stool, waiting a while longer before Ginny came back down. She had a duffle bag hanging across her body as she tried to navigate its attempts to move forward while taking the stairs and trying to keep her crutches steady.

"Let me get that," Harry said, standing and moving forward. Ginny didn't stop until she was to the first floor, finally putting both crutches under one arm and taking off the bag, giving it to Harry.

He lead the way out to the car, placing her bag into the boot and opening the door for her, waiting as she adjusted the crutches, tips down on the floorboard as they took up the space between the door and her seat. She reached over, buckling herself in as Harry closed his car door and went around to the driver's side.

"Do you know how to get to Devon area?" Ginny asked.

"Sure," Harry replied.

"And do try not hitting anyone on a bike," Ginny added.

Harry let out a sigh and she laughed, smile wide. Harry shook his head, trying to ignore the way she made him feel stuck and uncertain of what to say next. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that way around any woman. Even before his last relationship.

They made their way out of town, heading towards the main road towards Devon, Ginny telling Harry about the test she had taken, the start of her latest semester, and defending her brother.

"Ron's really good," Ginny said. "Which can be obnoxious. But he's always kept an eye out for me."

"I can tell," Harry replied. "Besides, I get it. I have a younger sister, too."

"Do you?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "Olive. She's at Uni in Scotland."

"That's right," Ginny said. "You told me about her. Did you ever figure out if she was in engineering or environmental studies?"

"Economics, actually," Harry said. Ginny laughed again. "I know, I know."

"What's the most 'big brother' thing you ever did with her?" Ginny asked. She leaned against the door, elbow on the arm rest. She still had a bit of a smirk on.

"Well," Harry thought. "When I was ten and she was… seven or eight, somewhere around there, there was this kid that kept picking on her in her year at school. So one day on the playground I got one of my friends to help me and we pinned him into one of the tunnels. Wouldn't let him out."

"Wow, that's pretty intense," Ginny said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "He ended up going to one of the teachers and we ended up in detention. Which also meant a long talk with my dad. Probably better than my mum."

"Why?" Ginny asked.

"Mum wouldn't have let me off the hook," Harry answered. "But Dad… I told him why I did it… I think he half wanted to string that boy up by his underwear, too. Wouldn't admit it to me, of course. Just told me not to pull stunts like that again. But later, I heard him on the phone with the other kid's parents."

"You got something rolling there, then."

"Sort of. He didn't mess with her after that."

"No more issues at all?" Ginny asked.

"Nope. Not until they dated when she was fourteen at least," Harry said. "Then it was a different ball game."

Ginny nodded like she understood.

"Is Ron your most protective brother?" Harry asked.

"Sometimes I think so," Ginny said. "Only, that might be because he's the one around the most. Percy might be a close second. The others like to tease me more than anything else."

They continued to talk, Ginny sharing stories about growing up in such a large family. Harry felt a strange longing in her stories. He had his family, it wasn't like he had ever wanted more than this, but somehow the way she talked about such a large clan of siblings gave him a pang for what she spoke about. Family. Home. Belonging. Even in the stories of relentless mocking.

Eventually, this tapered off, Ginny looking out the window, then laying her head against her arm on the window until she had drifted off. Harry stopped before the edge of the city limits to fill up his tank, knowing the petrol costs would be cheaper here. He was careful to not wake Ginny, hoping she might forget she had offered to pay. He watched her as the petrol filled the tank.

Harry took a deep breath, putting the cap back on the car, getting into the driver's seat. He got onto the road again, heading towards the Weasley's house.


	5. Flashbacks

**A/N:** Thanks for all the love on Chapter 4! Answers are forthcoming and I'll be interested to hear theories, so if you have any (or even thoughts on what's here) shoot me a review! Always appreciated!

 ** _Flashback_**

"Ginny."

Ginny stirred, but settled back into the nook she had created in the curve of her arm on the window. Harry smiled. He didn't want to wake her. She looked so peaceful. But they were closing in on Devon and he wasn't sure where to go from here.

"Ginny," he said again quietly. He reached over and nudged her shoulder.

This time she took a deep breath and held it. Harry looked between the road and Ginny as she reoriented herself, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Sorry, I just… I needed you to tell me where to go."

"Take a left at the second light, once you get through the heart of town," Ginny said, sitting up.

They drove on quietly, Ginny waking herself up more fully and pointing out directions as they came up. Harry turned onto a dirt road, slowing down since there didn't appear to be any street lights out this way.

"You really grew up way in the country, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I loved it," Ginny said. It was wistful. "We had a few friends around these parts. They've all moved away."

She made a strange face, rubbing her forehead.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just… trying to remember… there was a girl who lived around here, kind of odd. I can picture her… her name…" Ginny shook herself from it and sighed. "I'm getting old," she added. Harry laughed.

"I know the feeling," Harry said.

"Right up there," Ginny said. "You can pull up behind my dad's Anglia."

Harry pulled up behind a car that looked like it had seen better days. He put the car into park and turned off this engine. He hopped out, went around, and opened Ginny's door for her. She struggled to gain her footing, balancing as she swung her feet around, one in its heavy cast, and fumbled a moment with her crutches before finding her balance. Harry reached into the backseat to pick up her duffle bag. She reached out for it with her right hand.

"I'll help you in," Harry said.

"If you were wanting to check the place out, you don't have to use carrying my bag as an excuse," Ginny said, arm still outstretched. Harry smiled.

"I wasn't," he said. "You've got the ground to mess with. Just let me carry it in. It will make me feel better."

"You drove me two hours," Ginny said. "We're even."

She hadn't withdrawn her hand, but Harry still didn't relinquish the bag, stepping up to the rickety log gate, he opened it up for her. Ginny huffed, but finally situated the crutches and started up the thin dirt path that lead up to the front door. Ginny turned the knob and nudged the heavy door as Harry caught it towards the hinges, pushing it more fully open. She gave him a grateful smile and continued inside. There was noise coming from the room over, though the living room, with its array of couches, was empty.

"Mum!" Ginny called out. "Mum, Dad, I'm home!"

"Oh, Ginny, I was just worrying about you," a woman called from the next room over, she opened the door at the end of the sentence and paused. Men's laughter floated in as the door swung back and forth on its hinges. "Well, hello."

The woman looked like a older, more plump version of Ginny. Bright red hair thrown haphazardly into a bun, warm brown eyes with crows feet interrupting the clusters of freckles, and an apron dusted with flour all created a picture of warmth that made Harry like her in an instant.

"Hey, Mum," Ginny said, crutching over and giving her mother a kiss on the cheek. "This is my friend, Harry."

"Where's Daniel, sweetheart?" her mum asked.

"He had to pick up a last minute shift," Ginny replied.

Harry scratched the back of his head. Daniel. She hadn't mentioned a Daniel when he was taking her to the hospital before. She had only mentioned Ron.

"Harry was really nice and offered to drive me out here tonight," Ginny said.

"Isn't that just the sweetest," her mum said, looking at Harry as though he had saved a kitten from a tree. "That long of a drive?"

"It was really no trouble, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, an awkward pause as he tried to remember Ginny's last name.

"Call me Molly, please," she said. "And you will stay for dinner?"

"No, i-it's okay," Harry said. "I just wanted to make sure Ginny got here."

"I insist," Molly said. She reached out, taking the duffle and dropping it next to the staircase. "And you'll stay the night."

"Really, Molly, I—"

"No, I will not allow you to drive four hours straight in the dark like that. Your mother certainly wouldn't thank me. Come on in."

With a friendly push, Molly ushered Harry through the doorway to the kitchen. There was a sea of red hair, all stuffed into every corner of the kitchen. Some of the men sat around the table, but there were others standing up against the counters, holding plates of food in their hands since there was clearly not enough room. Several of them were still laughing, a couple playing a card game with a much older man—clearly Ginny's father—watching with a twinkle in his eye.

If everyone else only had some slight interest in his appearance, Ron was glaring at Harry, his face going red. Harry swallowed, looking around and hoping for someone more jovial at this point.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Ron growled. Everyone was breaking away from their activities of cards and food, staring at him now.

"Ronald Weasley!" Molly snapped.

"Ron, he came by and brought me my bike back," Ginny said. Harry dug his hands in his pockets. Certainly the invitation would be rescinded now. "Daniel wasn't going to be able to come until morning and Harry was nice enough to—"

"Out of this house!" Ron interrupted, standing up from the table, trying to push around the mess of others. His mother was snapping at him again, but Ron didn't seem to care. Ginny moved in front of Harry when one of the others—more built and stocky than Ron— grabbed onto his arm. He muttered something Harry couldn't hear, but a moment later, Ron responded, "that's the pillock that hit her with his car!"

Everyone looked between Ron and Harry now. Ginny let out a huff.

"He didn't hit me," Ginny said. "I just didn't get my balance when I swerved. And Harry fixed my bike and brought it tonight. Not to mention driving me from Oxford. I wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for him."

Harry looked around. He was just realizing what so many older brothers looked like. He swallowed.

The shorter red head, still with Ron's arm in hand, began to laugh first, slapping his leg. Others followed. One of them nudged Ron back into his chair, but Harry didn't move.

"My, what dramatics," Molly said. "He seems to have made up for as much as he can, Ronald. Everyone makes mistakes."

"Yeah, remember that time you drove Dad's car into the back room, Ron?" one of the others asked. This brought on a new round of laughter. Ron's scowl deepened along with his blush.

"That's enough," Molly huffed. "Now sit, Harry, sit. Let's get you fed. You're terribly skinny."

It wasn't until Ginny turned and gestured of her head towards the table that Harry followed, one of her brothers giving her a hand in sitting, another pulling up a chair for Harry. Ron still fumed across the table from him.

"So you got your bike back?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Good as new!" Ginny said. "Maybe even better. Harry ordered the right kind of tire and everything."

Mr. Weasley turned towards Harry. "I did what I could for it," he said. "Found something close in the local junk yard, but it took some makeshift repairs to get it working. I told Molly, 'maybe the accident was because of the bike.'"

"It wasn't," Ginny said, scooping some casserole from the pan, then passed it towards Harry. It was then he noticed it. The ring. He hadn't seen it before that. "It was just bad luck, is all."

Harry swallowed. He shouldn't stick around. Everyone was passing him mostly-empty pans of food, scooping extra onto his plate if he didn't take a mound. Ginny started pointing to the others, listing them off.

"That's Charlie," Ginny said, pointing out the one that had grabbed hold of Ron. Charlie gave a lift of his chin at the introduction. "And Ron, you met, and that's Percy, George, Bill… and his wife, Mandy," Ginny said. Beside Bill was the only other person without red hair. She was a studious looking sort, with sharply rectangular glasses and a bouncy brown mane. "Then my mum and dad..."

The door opened again, someone entering with a tray of beer glasses lined up on top. He carefully balanced them. "Much help you were, George," he said.

Harry had to do a double take, blinking. They all had a similar look—red hair and freckles—but this one… he looked just like another.

"And that's Fred," Ginny said. She picked up a ketchup bottle, knocking it against the edge of the table. "Fred and George are twins. They run a brewery together."

"Hey," Fred said. He wiped something off his hand onto his jean, then reached over the table. Harry grasped his hand and shook. "Fred."

"Harry," he said. Everyone else was passing around bowls and platters of food.

"You a friend of Ginny's?" Fred asked. A couple of the others laughed.

"Yes," Ginny interrupted as Ron opened his mouth. "No one say anything else and pass me the damned roast beef!"

Harry was grateful, even as Mrs. Weasley reprimanded Ginny and brought over another bowl of what he was certain was homemade rolls. Everyone talked over one another nearly the whole time. There was something familiar; almost uncanny, even. His family was small, of course. Even with extended family, he didn't have much experience. Just forced visits with his aunt, uncle, and brat of a cousin. Harry felt a more immediate affinity towards this family of strangers than almost anyone else.

Unless he met Ron's eye. The couple times that had happened, Harry had the vague impression of a million nails shooting right from Ginny's older brother and straight through himself.

Several of Ginny's brothers had gone various directions in the house. Harry stood and helped Bill as he gathered dirty dishes, taking a handful towards the sink.

"Oh, how polite," Mrs. Weasley said. "Why don't you go join the others, I have this."

"I can help," Harry said.

"No, no," Mrs. Weasley insisted, pushing Harry towards the door.

"Take her up on it Harry," one of the twins swung an arm around Harry's neck, guiding him towards the same door.

"Not likely you'll escape her grasp again," the other completed, opening the door as Mrs. Weasley harrumphed behind them.

Harry stood awkwardly as the two moved towards Bill and his wife. Percy was talking to Mr. Weasley, both seemingly engrossed. Charlie was still chatting with Ginny in the kitchen, and Harry felt even stranger going back in there. Ron was on the other side of the room, though, lounging against a pile of pillows and with a game controller in hand and in front of a television. Harry moved closer, squinting.

"Is that _Sorcerer's Quest_?" Harry asked, watching the little pixilated figure jumping across the stones within a castle on the screen.

"Yeah," Ron said shortly, continuing to press buttons, running the level as Harry grabbed a chair sitting along the wall to watch.

"Where did you find an old Nintendo?" Harry asked. He had one when he was about seven, having saved all of his money only to have his parents buy it for him that Christmas. He ended up blowing the savings on some of the games.

"I found it on Craigslist," Ron said.

"But I thought the connectors didn't work with new tellies," Harry said. "My dad found our old one in the garage and we couldn't get it working."

"You just have to switch out a couple wires," Ron said. He got to the end of the level and groaned when a message popped up that he didn't have enough gems to continue to the next level. "I always have to do this one twice."

"Did you use the glitch?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Here, I'll show you," Harry said, reaching out. Ron looked at him, eyes still narrowed, though he reached out, giving the controller to Harry.

It took Harry a moment to get a handle on the buttons again, placing his hands in the correct place to hit the top ones as well as the joist stick and face keys. Once familiar again, he lead the avatar through the castle hallway, jumping over poltergeists trying to peg with spit wads and under the stones jutting out from the walls.

"What's the glitch?" Ron asked after a few minutes.

"Almost there," Harry said, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

On the third flight of stairs, he slowed down. The steps began to move, leaving a gap.

"Go!" Ron shouted. "You can't make it if you don't—"

Harry finally went, going through the gap that would normally end the life of the avatar. Ron was sitting up, ready to grab the controls back as the figure clung to the wall, still half falling until he disappeared and was back at the start of the level, blinking to life, only the gems read four times the number they had before.

Ron stopped.

"How did you do that?" he asked.

"R-L over and over as you fall," Harry said, handing back the controller. "Total glitch and it only works on this one. Me and my sister tried it on the other ones with stairs.

"That's wicked," Ron said. "I thought I knew all the tricks on this game."

Ron relaxed back into his pile of pillows, and gave Harry a quick glance. "You're not so bad," he said.

* * *

Harry and Ron spent most of the evening playing various video games, reminiscing on their favorites and exchanging tips and tricks (most of which both of them knew already). Ginny came to watch for a bit, but Harry was glad that she moved on to one of her other brothers for a while. After crashing on a cot with Ron in an attic bedroom and a very large breakfast that Mrs. Weasley kept insisting Harry eat more, he went towards his car to head back to Oxford.

"Give me a call next week," Ron said, pouring syrup onto his five-high stack of pancakes. "I'll show you the set-up at my place. I updated the graphics card, but you can't tell it on my parent's TV."

"Will do," Harry said.

Ginny stood, adjusting her crutches as she lead the way back out towards the drive.

"You don't have to come all the way out," Harry said.

"My brothers will probably keep me from moving the rest of the day," Ginny said cheerily. "Gives me a chance to get up and about."

She turned at the porch, holding the door open for Harry. She was smiling at him and Harry swallowed. He tried to smile back.

"Thank you for bringing me again," Ginny said. "That was really sweet."

"It's… it's really nothing," Harry said.

"Well, thanks anyway," Ginny added.

Harry walked to his car, backing out of the drive carefully, and heading back through the small town.

"She's engaged," he whispered to himself.

There was a bitter part of him that had the thought that the bike and the ride ended up being a waste of time. But that wasn't why he had done it, was it? He hadn't gone expecting to ask her out or even to drive her home… he had fixed the bike because it had been his fault it was broken. He gave her a ride, because that was the kind thing to do, and his parents had always taught him to do kind things. Particularly his mother, who endlessly served those around her.

Apparently his imagination had gone away from him, thinking of ridiculous outcomes of something he should do just because it was right.

"Engaged," he muttered again, turning onto the highway toward Oxford.

* * *

 _43 Days_

Harry looked around his old flat, holding the last box, full of frames, and let out a deep breath. It was done. This entire chapter of his life. London.

Harry's mum had almost bought him a ticket to go to Scotland with them, but Harry knew he needed to finish his ties here and it was easier mid-week, when he could also go pick up his last check from the police station in person. He stepped outside the flat, leaving his keys on the counter between the living room and kitchen, as the manager requested. At his car, he shoved the box into the bit of space left in the back seat.

Harry drove around, surprised how packed the traffic was mid-week. With a groan, he turned down a side road, finding parking farther than he would have liked compared to the station. He got out, pocketing his keys and made his way down the street.

"We went to Potter's house, but he wasn't there," Harry heard a deep voice say, stopping him in the streets. He looked around, brow furrowed. The sidewalks weren't as full as the car lanes, but there were enough people. He caught the person speaking across the way as he talked again. "No one. I'll send someone out again today, Minister."

The man he spoke to had a decent presence; dark skinned, bald, and stately. He nodded.

Of course they weren't talking about him. Potter was a common enough name. Harry turned to walk again.

"Let me know as soon as there's any news on Harry," he said.

Harry whipped around so fast, blinking as he stared. Both men wore strange clothing—loose, almost draping full length cloaks, even though it was a warm fall. The one the first man had called minister had on jewel tones, impossibly bright. Harry turned, walking against the flow of the others, keeping the two in his sight, crossing the street when it became possible.

"Sir, this is extensive," the first man said. "All three… the three that stopped you-know-who…"

Harry walked faster. They were clearly speaking in code.

"And it's not just them. We had Ralph go out to Devon. The Weasleys… no one can find their house. Arthur hasn't been to work… Percy either."

This couldn't be a coincidence. Harry Potter… the Weasleys… Devon… Harry pushed forward.

"Definitely not a coincidence," the minister said. "Find out who's behind it, and find Potter."

"Hey!" Harry shouted.

Neither stopped. They continued, turning a corner. Harry followed, breaking away from the crowds and into a run. There was a stitch in his side as he continued, the two entering a phone booth.

"Hey!" He shouted again.

One dialed on the phone and the minister was looking right at him. He was out of breath, stopping and watching, concentrating on the man. There was something familiar. Something Harry couldn't pin. Even more concerning, though, was that the man seemed to see right through him. It was like he wasn't even there.

The phone booth began to shift, moving downward.

It was like a stone blocking a stream was pushed away in his head, something moved and a million memories came crashing down. Going down into the ministry the first time. Entering with Ron and Hermione. The others who had come with in his fifth year.

Harry's head hurt as he leaned against the wall nearby, looking again.

Kingsley. That's who he had just seen. Kingsley. And they were looking for Harry.

Harry caught his breath, moving towards where he knew the phone booth would come. He would go down there and straighten all this out.

He waited, pacing back and forth in the small alleyway. When it finally came back, Harry ran forward, reaching for the handle, but his hand went straight through, as though the image were a projection. A trick of the eye.

Harry ran from the spot, going back towards the main streets, looking around for others he knew. He hurried to an entrance they had just constructed, after concern that there may be Death Eaters who knew how to get into the Ministry and exploit this knowledge surfaced. Harry went down to the underground station. He could see it: a small closet tucked into the side of the corridor. The other people continued passing by, ignoring him as Harry tried to open the door. Again, his hand seemed to move through the space, nothing solid to grasp onto.

Panic set in. This wasn't right. None of this was right. He looked down at his clothes, felt the car keys and phone in his pocket… he was… there was a word for it… he closed his eyes.

He was a muggle.

Harry went back up the steps, running through memories in his mind. Just a few days ago, he had taken Ron up on the offer to see his setup on the gaming consoles. He didn't know what he was, did he? And the bushy-haired woman he had seen that day in the bookstore. No wonder she looked familiar. Harry felt sick that he had talked to and seen his two best friends and not even known it. He hadn't known them. And worse, they hadn't known him.

And then he came to Ginny.

Harry swallowed. What would have happened if she had been hit by his car straight on? What was the purpose in this? She was engaged, but not to him. Harry's chest felt tight and heavy as he made his way towards his car. In his head combated the ideas why he was here now and what he had just realized. He took back roads, forgetting the last paycheck entirely. What did it matter now? The muggle side of him also realized they would just mail it to his current address.

Instead, he focused on trying to remember what had compelled him to leave London. In his muggle life something had happened that made him want to go home. It was a truth that drove many of the conversations with his parents, but now, examining the idea with a more critical eye, it simply didn't exist.

Harry had to go back and figure out if there was more to it than vague recollections. He turned quickly onto the street where his flat had been. He stopped in front of the derelict building in place of the midtown apartments he had just left. Where he had just gathered his things. But… this wasn't the same building. Harry shook his head, looking around. The flat was nothing but a worn out, abandoned warehouse of sorts. He looked into his back seat. All the things were still there. All the frames and winter clothes… the box of tools that he hadn't bothered to take.

Harry got out, shutting his car door. There was a homeless man sleeping on the sidewalk in front of the building and he went up to the door, where a chain kept it shut.

It wasn't real. None of it was real. And yet it was real enough that as he pulled out his phone, his parents' phone numbers were in there.

Harry swallowed. Something was terribly wrong.

* * *

Harry continued to drive in circles once he was back in Oxford. He unloaded the car, going through the house and seeing pictures of him, his parents, his sister. And at the same time, he remembered clearly that they were dead. They had been dead since he was one. He didn't have a sister in that life, but he could remember them playing together when he was young. Both lives existed in parallel and he didn't know how to trust either.

At one point, he drove by Ginny and Ron's place, but didn't stop like he wanted to. There was no way they would believe them. Whatever had made him forget—whatever had created this reality—had done the same to them. He couldn't go to them until he had answers. He went back to the bookstore, hoping Hermione would be there. Of course she wasn't, but he weaved in and out, the false hope growing.

And now all he could do was to drive. Drive and think.

Harry was on the north side of a large public park when he saw the girl, her bright blonde hair a stark contrast to the dark green of the trees behind her. She was staring right at him, eyes wide. Steady.

"You!" he shouted, although the windows to his car were up. She was backing away, edging along the trees.

Harry threw the car into park, right in the middle of the street. People honked and he left it running as he jumped from the car, running as fast as he could into the spaced trees. He could see her hair bouncing behind her as she stumbled over the larger roots in her path.

"Stop!" Harry yelled, short of breath for the second time that day. "Please! Wait!"

She tripped again, rolling onto her side, covering her head with her arms. Harry hopped over the stump she had missed, picking her up by her arms. Tears streamed down her face, her body was tense in fear.

"Who are you?" Harry shouted. She flinched, shaking as he held her still.

"No one," the girl trembled.

Harry swallowed, looking around. There were groups of people staring at them. This girl, though… the one he kept forgetting. She had to be the key to understanding.

When Harry looked back at her, he noticed some other things this time. She was crying hard now. Tears stained her cheeks and she sniffled. This made him feel worse than anything else. But it wasn't just that. Her clothes were threadbare and old. Her hair was messy and tangled. Her cheeks gaunt. She had that hungry look. The one that his old self would recognize from days living with Dudley and hoping for a full, robust meal. One he rarely received.

"You hungry?" Harry asked.

Her eyes met his, filled with wetness, tears piling up and pooling against the edge of the lid. She nodded.

"How about I take you to get some food?" Harry asked.

The girl worried her bottom lip. Reluctantly, she nodded.

"Alright," Harry said. "Alright… come on."

* * *

The girl dug into the shepherd's pie enthusiastically. She had already eaten through half a baguette and seemed to really enjoy the lemon lime soda Harry ordered for her. He almost felt bad for the way he had pursued her. She had scrapes all up her arms and on her knees from her fall, but Harry was too anxious for answers to really feel guilty.

"I have to ask you some questions," Harry said when she was a few bites into her pie. She didn't look away from the food. "What are you doing here?"

She licked her lips, her eyes flicking to his before she looked around the small restaurant. She swallowed, nervous.

Harry leaned forward.

"Are you afraid to tell me?" Harry asked.

The girl's eyes widened as she nodded.

"I'll keep you safe," Harry said. "I promise."

She didn't seem to know what to think of this.

"Okay, then let's start with this. Where's your home? Where do you live?"

"Under the bridge," the girls said.

"What do you mean, under the bridge?" Harry asked.

"The bridge near the park," she replied, pushing around some bits of meat with her fork before digging in for a large bite she stuffed into her mouth.

"Where are your parents?" Harry asked.

"Dead," she said matter-of-factly. "Auntie sent me here."

"To Oxford?"

The girl looked at him, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head.

Harry swallowed.

"You mean to… to what this… this is?"

The girl nodded.

"What… what is it?"

She leaned forward. Harry did the same.

"The spell," the girl whispered.

A new image flashed in Harry's mind. This girl. Stonehenge. Candles. Darkness.

"Auntie wanted you to go away," she said. "She said you had to go away."

"Why?" Harry asked. The girl shrugged. He scratched his head, trying to piece together what he could remember, wondering what else he was forgetting. "So… So this spell… it made me… it made us muggle."

"Not me," the girl said. "Auntie said I would anchor. I would have to keep you from…" She swallowed and looked down at her food.

"From what?"

The girl didn't look up.

"Okay, we can get to that later. Didn't she find you a place to live? Where is your aunt?"

"She's in the old truth," the girl said.

"She sent you here alone?"

The girl nodded.

"What have you been eating then?" Harry asked.

The girl's sad eyes looked at him. "People throw things in the bins, sometimes," she mumbled.

Harry's stomach sank. He leaned further forward. "I'll make sure you have food, okay? I'll make sure you're protected."

Harry recognized the hope in her eyes as readily as he had the hunger. She was uncertain, but the plate of food in front of her was a start. It was a moment to earn her trust.

She adjusted herself, sitting on her knees and moved close to Harry, lifting a hand. He leaned in, turning one ear towards her.

"I am supposed to keep you away from the others," she said. "Auntie said you couldn't see each other."

"Why not?" Harry asked, quietly, not moving.

"Then you might remember and ruin it," the girl said. She pulled back. She stayed quiet, her face close to Harry's. "It took Auntie years."

"Years?"

The girl nodded. "It was mostly the red haired family. She had to make sure she got them all."

"Got them?"

"To put them here," she said. "With you."

Harry stayed quiet as the girl sat back. She waited a minute, then dug back into her food.

Harry thought about this. To alter this many wizards to believing they were muggles, to not even question it, would take powerful and dark magic. If it had just been him it wouldn't matter. Because his parents had died many years before in his real life, they might not be a hard addition to making his world believable. But then the others—Ron, Ginny, Hermione—would certainly be looking for him. And the Weasleys. The Weasleys were a pureblood family. That would be the largest feat of all. That someone wanted to get rid of all of them spoke a great deal of their intent.

And this girl—this nearly forgettable anchor—was stuck in the middle of it all. Left to starve, tasked to life alone, Harry felt for her.

"So how do we change it back?" Harry asked. He thought of his parents a moment. "How… how do we get everyone back?"

The girl shrugged. "Auntie wouldn't tell me that."

"But there's a way back?" Harry asked.

The girl considered this. "I think… I think so," she said. "But…"

"But what?"

She licked her lips. Her eyes looked upward thinking. "Two moons must pass," she muttered.

"Two moons?"

"Two moons. Two moons before it alters forever," the girl said. "Two…yeah, t-two moons."

Harry swallowed. Two moons. Two months.

"What's your name?" Harry asked the girl. She looked concerned again, as though her aunt might jump out and tell her off any moment.

"Delphini."


End file.
